Sleeping Refuge
by SarcasticEnigma
Summary: BEING REWRITTEN! AU 123. Leûra is an Elvish princess from Cuiviénen. She forces her way into the Fellowship but, untrusted by certain members, is it possible she has an ulterior motive? Tenth Walker! LegolasOC! R&R!
1. Old Friends

_**Disclaimer: **_I don't own _The Lord of the Rings _or any of its characters. I only own Leûra, Aearion, Undûme, Cassiopeia, Balanidhren, Aefaradien and any other original characters – so no stealing. However, I don't own Cuiviénen. That place belongs to J. R. R. Tolkien, but the stories of it in Chapter 1 and 2 are all mine.

_**Sleeping Refuge**_

**Chapter 1: Old Friends**

"Undûme, I warn you!"

I suspected he was here, but I did not know until I heard his voice. Lord Elrond comes here, weary and smeared in ash, carrying the black stains of Orc and Goblin blood on his armor. The Lord of Imladris is shouting, pleading, to my father, Undûme, Lord of Cuiviénen. The land which I shall rule over is home to all Elves, the cradle of our lives. It was in the Years of the Trees that we Elves awoke from the Sea of Helcar. Though some have gone and moved West, formed their own lands to safeguard, my ilk has stayed in the East, secluded and masters of the Drakes. This land has fallen on dark times because of one foul monster, Sauron the Deceiver.

How a spirit of Eru Ilúvatar, an Ainu, could fall from grace is a horror I hoped to never witness.

"Listen to me now or you will perish!"

My fingers twitch around the hilt of my sword as I watch Lord Elrond chase Ada. I wish I could seal my heart to the Half-elf's words, but I know the truth. My king has all but abandoned his people to the battlefronts, doing nothing as they die. He cares not for he has not witnessed the horrors of this war as I have. I've walked these pristine halls, the stench of death clinging to my armor, the wails of my fallen brethren ringing in my ears, all while the king haunts his study, wasting away into nothing. Where once was life and joy there is now nothing but cold indifference. Eyes that used to beam with pride at the sight of the city now glaze over like glass and sneer with disgust.

"No, you listen, _Lord_ Elrond," Ada sneers at the Master of Imladris. I cannot stop myself from cringing. Fool. "I will not be fooled into joining an alliance with _Men! _Men are _weak_ and they are greedy knaves!"

"You are misguided, my old friend. Your vision of the truth is hazy."

_He isn't wrong,_ I think solemnly. I recently managed to steal away into Ada's study and was appalled to find him speaking to a palantír. How it came into his possession worries me almost as much as whom I believe he was speaking to: Sauron. I have watched him slowly go mad, grow cruel and unjust towards his people, until he reaches the point where he no longer recognizes his true friends, barely recognizes his family. But what can I do? He is mad but he is my father. All that I am came from him!

"My vision is clear. I see the truth well, _old_ _friend_, and I_ know _that you are only trying to betray me!" Elrond sighs disgustedly at this. It was all too obvious that his friend is truly gone if he thinks that he would betray him. "Yes, I know that you conspired with the other races. You betrayed me, Elrond! You wish to see me dead and my bloodline fall!"

"You speak nonsense! Sauron's army will destroy you, Undûme! He will kill you _and_your family! Your city will be destroyed! Why can you not see that?"

A hand suddenly rested on my shoulder causing me to whip, hand firmly clutching the hilt of my sword. The gentle smile of my mother graces her ill face and put my heart at peaceful ease. The only reason she would be out of her chamber in her condition, mere days from bringing my sibling into the world, would be because of the argument I have been listening to. It doesn't surprise me at all that she has heard them. After all, I had only just been in the library reviewing maps, three halls away, and been drawn to the fight between the once brotherly men.

"Sauron is more powerful than you realize, Elrond. He is strong. He will protect me; shelter my race from the coming darkness," the king raves as if being in the pocket of the Dark Lord is something to be proud of. "I have seen it," he whispers, leaning into Elrond's right ear. If I could see Lord Elrond's face, I know that his eyes would be wide with the same horror as mine.

"Undûme, please," Elrond gently pleads as he watches the mad Elf back away from him, smiling thinly. "Please, tell me you didn't join with him." Elrond sighs, head hanging low. I can tell that he isn't angry but disappointed, just as I am.

"I have, and it will be my city's greatest accomplishment," he rants joyfully, turning to his throne and stares at our lengthy family tree engraved in the wall behind it.

"You fool!" Elrond shouts and grabs my father's arm, forcing him to look at him. "He will kill you when he has finished with you!"

"Maybe so, but at least then my legacy will be safe," he states proudly. Gritting my teeth shamefully, I can no longer stand to listen. As soon as I turn away my weary mother, once I am certain that she is gone, I make my way to the two Lords.

"No! Cassiopeia, Aearion, and your unborn child will all die when he's finished with you!" Ada doesn't seem to be listening to him. He simply turns to face the tree again with a smile. "Then you leave me no choice, old friend," he says solemnly. Elrond unsheathes his sword and raises it above his own head. My heart freezes. He's going to kill Ada! Afraid and angry, my slow pace quickly transforms into a run as I unsheathe my own sword, clashing with Elrond's just before his stroke falls.

"I think you should leave now, Lord Elrond," I advise with conviction yet desperate for his own safety. If he does not leave, I cannot be held responsible for mine or my father's actions.

"Aearion, you know not what you do," he warns as we push our swords away from one another.

"No, he does. My son knows exactly where his loyalties lie," Ada states conceitedly, placing a hand around my shoulder as I sheathe my sword. "And they are not with you. Leave, Elrond. Leave my realm or die." Elrond sighs, shaking his head, and turns away from us with regret written all over his face.

My heart goes out to the man that has always been a second father to me. I love him dearly, and it certainly pains me to turn him away; neither of us even bowed to each other as he left. Ada soon leaves my side as well; wandering to his private study where I am certain that cursed stone rests. With nothing else to do, with the army home for a well-deserved rest, I decide to check on Naneth and maybe apologize to Lord Elrond. Moving down the hall, I see the Half-Elvin Lord step out into the light of my decaying city, once ruled by a just and fair king but now by a heartless dictator. But, before I even have the chance to speak, I see Elrond joined by another.

"Why must you come at such dark times, Elrond?"

It is my Naneth, my Queen, Cassiopeia. She is staring out into the city, face blank and beautifully pale. Even fully swelled with child, she looks as beautiful as ever.

"Why must you stay here when you know that you could come with me to Imladris and be safe?" he returns whilst walking towards her. Deciding to be respectful, I keep out of sight and listen instead. _This is wrong,_ I know_, but what they don't know cannot hurt them, right?_ My mother's hands rest on her fully-grown stomach as Elrond's gaze burns into her, but she still does not look at him. "Your husband has been corrupted by the enemy. You know this just as you know that Sauron will betray him. Why do you sit aside and do nothing?"

"Nothing?" she gasps wisely, finally looking at him. "Who do you think summoned you here?" The elder lord bows his head, understanding now: Naneth is just as worried and fearful as Elrond and I are, though she conceals her fears much better than us. "Elrond, I wish I could go with you, but my place is here with my husband, my son, and my people."

"Cassiopeia, you are as wise as Galadriel. Surely you must know the dangers of staying here?"

"I do, but I must stay just as you must go." I watch carefully as she smiles up at him and caresses his cheek, cleaning some of the ash away. I feel a twitch in my heart. He is a friend, yes, but why would she be so tender with him? The way she gazes upon him, it is as if he were a lover but that is not possible…right? "Go, before it is too late."

Retracting her hand, she turns and leaves him to come back inside. As she passes me, I see tears fall from her eyes and, when I look outside, I see Elrond hurry out of the city on his steed. The Drakes roar overhead, a sign of respect and homage to him, as he rides out of the wrought iron gates, pushing his horse as fast as he can. Back to the battlefield or Imladris, I do not know but I desperately wish Naneth, myself and our people could follow.

**Translations:**

Ada(r): Father

Naneth: Mother

Aearion: son of the sea

Cassiopeia: constellation

P.S.: Three pages total.


	2. The Dragon Knights of Cuiviénen

_**Disclaimer: **_I don't own _The Lord of the Rings _or any of its characters. I only own Leûra, Aearion, Undûme, Cassiopeia, Balanidhren, Aefaradien and any other original characters – so no stealing. However, I don't own Cuiviénen. That place belongs to J. R. R. Tolkien, but the stories of it in Chapter 1 and 2 are all mine.

**Chapter 2: The Fate of Cuiviénen**

_Pronunciation: koo-eevee'-e(r)nen_

Cuiviénen, The Water of Awakening, is the home of my Elven kin. Our city belongs to ancient times, far back in the Years of the Trees. My ancestors led our people to the distant east of Middle-earth, on the eastern shores of the Sea of Helcar. We have long since abandoned the bow to raise the native Dragons not only as companions, but as weapons. Many waters once flowed down thither to Cuiviénen from heights in the east, but no longer for it no longer exists.

Or, at least, cannot be found.

Ruled by my father, Lord Undûme, a once kind and just man, my people have suffered by the sword and flame. After he was betrayed, just as he was warned he would be, Ada led our people into war against Sauron. His refusal to accept the help of the Man-Elf alliance was our undoing. Our great city fell into the ocean, never to be seen again, but was not completely lost. With her final act as queen, Naneth, a powerful witch in her own right, cast a spell to protect the city. To save its people and her children. With her death there was a small hope for her last breath was the first of my sister, Princess Leûra.

Now, Cuiviénen now resides under the sea, at the bottom of Helcar within a dome to shield us from the underwater world; the Dragons that weren't within the dome died out of existence. The life of my people and the Dragons turned into legend, legend into myth, until the truth of our kind, of the Drakes noble nature was twisted into frightful tales to tell misbehaving children.

I, Prince Aearion, cared for my sister as best as I could. I trusted no one to the task of raising her but myself and, because of this, she was raised the same as a boy. I am to blame for learning the ways of the sword and knife, but I also schooled her in the ways of a diplomat. Though she once believed that diplomacy was the key to success, our father's influence changed her. I wish more than anything I could have kept him from her forever, but that was an impossible task. She became a stubborn and cocky warrior, arrogant even, often injuring herself. She would not admit it, but I always knew she sought only revenge on the monster that poisoned Ada's mind, the dead Sauron.

But she could not do so until now.

Ada still possessed the Seeing-stone, a gift from master to slave. Determined to know what our father kept under lock and key, Leûra stole away into his private study against my wishes, for I knew all too well what rested there. She laid her eyes on true darkness for the first time in her life. She used the Stone to see what made me worry so, to learn what ailed our father. But, what she saw, she did not expect.

P.S.: One page total.


	3. Believe

_**Disclaimer: **_I don't own _The Lord of the Rings _or any of its characters. I only own Leûra, Aearion, Undûme, Cassiopeia, Balanidhren, Aefaradien and any other original characters – so no stealing. However, I don't own Cuiviénen. That place belongs to J. R. R. Tolkien, but the stories of it in Chapter 1 and 2 are all mine.

**Chapter 3: Believe**

"Bravely you look further than you see, Leûra," Aearion states to me as we walk through the open halls. "One day it's going to get you killed," he laughs at me, knowing full well of my tendency to let me anger rule me in battle.

My dear gwanur, who fought and, surprisingly, lived through the War of the Ring, ran a hand over my blonde hair. He always tells me I look more like Naneth than he does even though I do not carry her eyes as his does; I bear our Ada's, a fact that gwanur seems to hate. He adopted a silly mortal belief that the eyes are the windows to the soul so he believes that, because I have Ada's eyes, then I could become just like him. I know he just worries but, honestly, men are so stupid sometimes!

"I do look further than others, but knowing things I know I cannot be will _not_ kill me, Aearion. I am, after all, pre-born," I reason, blatantly reminding him that I awoke in Naneth's womb before my time of birth.

That always got to him, not frightened him, but made him fear for my life because, since my birth, I have been a philosopher, of sorts. I always ask questions knowing he cannot give me the answers, which he knows I already have. I used to remind him of this fact when I was but a child to spite him when he angered me, which was quite often. I had a retched temper; it took much to calm him. Even now, my attempts to calm him are to no avail. He will always worry about me no matter what I say. Brothers!

Gwanur looks me over and I try not to roll my eyes. His distaste for my choice of clothing remains. He does not like how I dress as a man, but I cannot help it! The white pants that hug at my hips hold a belt that wraps not only around my waist, but across my chest, hold the short swords he gave to me when he no longer needed them. I also took to wearing his old gray boots which, because they were made for a man, almost go as high as my knees but they are, like the pants, quite comfortable. The only article I wear that is mine is a gray tunic. It used to be the top of a dress, but I cut it up and had it sewn – a feminine art I fail miserably at – and even had to sleeves cut so that I could wear my bracers. Still, the stupid dress' sleeves were so long that the seamstress had to cut them just under my shoulder so they wouldn't flow. I wouldn't have cared but, according to her, for a lady to show her arms is improper. So, to fixed it, she took the same material as my pants to give me proper long sleeves.

Unlike most elleth, I am most uncomfortable in dresses. Yes, I will wear them on a special occasion, but what need is there for one where I live, under the sea where, from what Aearion tells me, the entire world thinks us dead? The clothes of men and fighting are my way, but else what do you expect when raised by men?

I smile at Aearion and he shakes his head, but he is smiling. I lean into him and we wrap our arms around one another. My free hand, as always, is holding the small horn that is tied to my waist with an assortment of parcels filled with herbs and the like. Gwanur carries a horn as well but his is brown while mine is white. Their purpose is known only to the people of my land, to call on the aid of our greatest allies: our Drakes.

"But it will kill others," he sighs with a smile; he always loves to tease me. "So stubborn! How did Valar ever bless me with such a sister?"

""Blessed" am I? And here I thought I was curse." He stops and looks at me sadly and I stop, too with a furrowed brow. "What? You know its true," I argue despondently.

"It is_ not _true, and you must stop blaming yourself," he reasons as I sigh and continue to walk again. I look out the windows and see the city and our Drakes flying carelessly, but beyond that I see the outside world. A world of gliding monsters, a world that I long to see beyond the pictures in the books of old.

"How can I not? If things are as you say, Ada betrayed us, Aearion! He betrayed Naneth, Lord Elrond, and our entire realm! He gave into Sauron at the last chance of our survival. His betrayal, mother's death, our city's fall – all of it happened when I was born. If that is not a omen of some kind then, I don't know what is."

"For the millionth time, gwathel, you are not cursed! Adathought he was saving us – saving you _and_ Naneth. Without Sauron's powers, you, Ada, our people – all you see before you – and even _I_ would be gone! Buried at the bottom of Helcar!"

"We _are_ at the bottom of Helcar!" I argue with a laugh.

"Leûra, you are so aware of where you are, but you don't know where that is," he sighs at me, shaking his head.

Aearion has been through so much already. He told me everything that happened all those years ago between Ada and Lord Elrond. I feel as though I have to make amends for those mistakes, and I suppose I will someday if I ever gain the courage to leave the shield that haunts and hovers over us – protecting us.

"True," he continues, "we are at the bottom of the sea, but are we dead? No. Why can you not forgive him as I have?"

"Because," I begin and pull him to the wall, worrying him yet again as I spoke low so only he could hear, "he still remains with the Dark Lord. I have heard him talking to him through the Seeing-stone, gwanur. I have seen the Stone with my own eyes. Sauron still poisons his mind."

"Sauron is dead, it is not possible," he states with reasonable superiority before the rest of my words come to him. "The _**palantír**_? He still has that? I thought he destroyed it? He told us he had. He wouldn't lie."

"Or so you foolishly believe. Just because you are older, gwanur, does not make you wiser," I accuse him with a wry smile.

"And just because _you_ believe yourself to be wiser than I, does not mean you are," he argues as he lowers his voice with mine. "Did you touch it, Leûra? The Stone, did you touch it?" I look at him before casting my eyes to the floor. How can he read me so well? How does he do that? I hate it when he does that!

"I did," I admit with so much more guilt than he can ever imagine. I hear him groan with displeasure and look up at him, ready to defend my actions. "I did not want to, but it felt as though I was being called. It was Sauron, wasn't it?"

"Yes. The Dark Lord called to you, and you stupidly listened!" He is furious with me, something he has never been since I was a child and played shameless pranks on him. But, thankfully, his voice softens and he sighs, releasing his anger. "What did you see?"

"Many things. Lord Elrond, the Races in an alliance, cities burning, monstrous creatures and," I stop with hesitance. I look up at him and he silently urges me to continue. With a sigh, I continue, "the Eye."

""The Eye"?" he echoes incredulously, staring at me in shock. This cannot be good. "Then we have no choice. You must leave the city, go beyond the shield, and seek the aid of Lord Elrond," he states casually, turns and begins to walk up the hall again.

His words don't hit me until he is out of sight. Is he insane? "Leave the city"? As much as I wish I could, I can't. If anyone should go to Lord Elrond, it is Aearion! He knows him! He has a history with him! If I request an audience with him, I will surely be turned away because my entire people are believed dead! Lord Elrond would never believe me, but he would certainly welcome Aearion! With that in mind, I follow the sound of his feet and find him in his room, looking through drawers and making a mess.

What in the name of Valar is he doing?

"Lord Elrond? But I've never met Elrond, Aearion! I wasn't even born the last time he was here! The only reason I knew it was him in the vision was from the drawings Naneth made of him!" I reason logically but also, I hate to admit it, desperately.

"We have no choice!" he shouts with a desperate tone, ceasing his actions and looks at me. His eyes speak volumes; there really is no other choice. I hang my head and scowl at the floor. This isn't fair. "_I_ have no choice! If Ada truly is corrupt, as you say, then I must stay here and watch him but I must send you to Lord Elrond. It is my duty, as it is yours."

"Send me away? To the outside world, a place I've only read about and seen in pictures?" I remind him in a failed attempt to reason with him. Suddenly, I'm a diplomat again. I hate it when he does this, makes me return to my lesser half. "You want me to confront a total stranger, and tell him of my visions?"

"No! Of course not!" He walks over to me and places his hands on my face lovingly, gazing down at me. "If the time arises that you must tell him, then, by all means, tell him. But until then, keep it secret."

"There was something else, gwanur," I whisper hesitantly. I don't want to tell him but I have to; not use in keeping secrets now. "Just after I saw the Eye, I felt as though there was something right in front of me and I…" I trail of helplessly, trying to find a good way to explain what I saw, but there is no good way; there is nothing. So, I place my hands on his own and pull them from me, but still hold them as I look into his eyes. "I saw me. I was lying on the ground. There was a battle going on around me; Men and Elves fighting all sorts of monsterous creators. I…" He nods for me to continue so I take a breath. "I wondered if it was truly me, so I reached out and touch my hand. It was cold and there was so much blood. I-I…I think I was dead."

"You saw your death?" He's astounded, to say the least; I just nod and wait. "I didn't think the Stones could show one their end. Do you know where you were?"

"Not my death, gwanur, just me, dead," I correct him rather rudely. As smart as Aearion is, he can be rather dense at times. I trust him, I do, but it is a frightening thought that he will ascend the throne when Ada dies. "I don't know where, just that it was in the midst of a battle. It was so strange. I don't understand!" I'm completely frustrated now; it feels as if the world is falling to pieces all around me. Leaving his side, I begin to pace, to try and make sense of what is happening, but it's not working. "Maybe it was some later date or me here, after some accident or perhaps—"

"Gwathel, you are grasping at meager theories of prosperity while there is someone who can promise the truth of the vision." His voice is soft as I turn to face him. I stare at him, waiting for the answer, but he simply stares back. He's trying to remain calm so I will, too. I hope.

"You mean The Lady of the Wood? Lady Galadriel?" I ask and he nods, smiling softly. "The stories of her; she frightens me," I whisper, "but if she can help me then I must set my fear aside and face her." He nods and walks over to me, towering over me with a small smile. I'm not exactly short, but standing next to Aearion I certainly am.

"Tomorrow you were nothing, yesterday you'll be. Time has fooled me into thinking it's a part of you, gwathel," he says with a laugh at the private joke we share. As we argued before, I am wiser than he is, even though he is thousands of years older. He often says I am Naneth reincarnated, but I believe it is just wishful thinking on his part.

"Nay. There's nothing in this realm but empty space. No me, no world, no mind, no face," I sigh, now fully depressed at my task.

"Ever the cynic, I see." Another joke between us. As an Elf, I should be an optimist but, with the world I live in and knowing what I know, how can I be? "Still holding on to your visions of what love should be?"

"Only from what Ada should grant us. What else is real if not that?" It's true that I love my Adar, despite his place in life at the moment. I only wish that he returned the love he once held for his people and us.

"A religion that appeals to me, the Valar." I sigh again with more disgust, leaving my brother and his room entirely. He follows, of course, to try and talk some sense into me, but he knows my thoughts on the Valar.

"Maybe the Valar could take some time to aid us for once, grant some good fortune, and save Ada." In my own opinion, the Valar abandoned us the day the Valar decided to let Ada be swayed by Sauron. Ever since, our lives have been nothing but tragic news and death.

"The only one who can save Ada now is you." There he goes again, trying to force me into believing that I am more than I am. "It is a mission I place in your charge and, as my place next in line for the throne, you must obey. If Adar is…ill," he says decisively, "then he cannot know right from wrong." I stop dead in my tracks, anger boiling to the surface, as he walks past me to go toward the Keep, where our own Drakes rest, taking a full pack with him.

"Can you stop? For just a second, will you please?" I'm begging now, and he stops to look at me just a worried as before. "I know I've said some awful things about Ada, but still…ugh, I just wish that one of us inherited Naneth's power."

"Why is that?" he asks, sounding completely confused. He knows that Naneth could perform magic and cast spells; she saved us with her skill, after all. Unfortunately, neither of us took to her ways or even cared for them other than a few lingering thoughts.

"I'd ask you to turn me into something faceless, weightless, mindless…homeless."

"A vacuum state of peace? Make all you know and saw unreal?" I nod slowly, knowing I cannot lie to him – not that I ever could. He always knows how to make me feel better, just like a brother should. I'm more grateful for him than my own life, more than my place as Princess of Cuiviénen. If I didn't have Aearion, then I would've killed myself by now to escape Ada and the cost of living here: my freedom. "That can never be, gwathel. We are what we are, and we always will be."

"I know. We are Knights of the Drakes, the unconquerable tamers, and nothing can change that." He knows I've accepted my fate, his charge, now, wherever it will lead me, but that does not mean I have to like it. "How do you intend for me to get to Lord Elrond? I can't leave the city, I'll drown!" Though my deepest dream is to leave the city, the thought of drowning is most unappealing.

"I know. Wait for me here." He takes off at a run down the hall back toward his room.

"Where are you going?" I call to him with an amused smile. He looks back at me for a moment with a cocky smile.

"You shall see!"

He leaves my sight and I shake my head. Aearion may be old, well over five thousand years, but he can still be childish at times. It didn't take long for him to return though, two things in his possession.

"Here, this map will show you the way to Imladris, Rivendell, in Westron – that is Lord Elrond's realm. Hopefully, it still stands in that spot. And this," he says, holding up a necklace after handing me the old and worn map; I recognize the necklace as Naneth's, from paintings of her. Aearion must have been keeping them both hidden from Ada in his room, "Naneth's pendant, her symbol of power. She once told me that this was given to her by the Lady herself, crafted in Caras Galadhon. It should offer you safe passage into his lands. If you fly on Balanidhren, you should cut your trip by a few weeks. But you'll have to walk to rest of the way – avoid major cities. If you don't, Balanidhren will be shot down and we can't that." He smiles teasingly and I can't help but smile back.

"No, we can't have that," I say seriously, but he knows that I'm joking through the horrible situation presented to us. I fold the map and place it safely within my satchel. I'm careful to make sure he doesn't see what else I carry, then place Naneth's necklace around my throat; tucking is safely within my shirt. "This still doesn't solve the problem of the dome."

"Balanidhren may be old but he is strong enough that he should be able to punch through the shield, and get you above water before drowning becomes an issue."

We walk back down to the Keep and see our Drakes wide-awake, looking at us expectantly. Balanidhren used to belong to Adar, but is now mine since his faltering health. With scales as rich as the bark of what little trees remain in our city, and eyes as glassy as the amber of our halls, he is quite a sight to behold. Aearion's Drake, Aefaradien, is all black. He looks almost evil, with sharp horns on his tail and head but his eyes give way to his kind heart. They are such a vibrant green, it is like looking into a peace itself. Gwanur has told me that just looking into Aefaradien's eyes eases him.

"The shield will just repair itself as it has always done against the sea after you've left. All will be well." The sea is our enemy, so to speak. The carnivorous sea animals that see our people from time to time try to eat them in hopes of an easy meal. Fortunately, they have only ever punctured a small hole before dying and the damage is repaired. Then we get the easy meal; some animals last months.

"I don't want to go without you. I'm nothing on my own." Balanidhren gives a low growl as I gently rub the space between his eyes and nose – his forehead, had he been a person and not an animal.

"Don't be ridiculous. You are a warrior, and a strong one at that! You could have killed me a few times," he laughs, nudging me playfully as we walk to the outside with Balanidhren so he can stretch his wings before we take off. "I would go in your place had we only known how serious the matter was sooner, but not now. I have to keep one eye on Ada, and the other on our people. You know that, right?"

"I know. I'm so aware of everything, but nothing seems real. But, as long as you are in front of me, then I know what is. I'm grateful for that. But there?" I sigh, pointing slightly to the water where fishes and other creatures swim by in the distance. "Above the surface of this realm, everything seems darker, colder somehow. I can't explain it."

"Then don't try to. Go, complete your mission and find Lord Elrond. If Sauron truly has risen, then Lord Elrond will call the Races together for Council; that is most likely what you witnessed when you saw the Races gathered together. You _must_ be on that Council, Leûra." I nod at his forceful tone, his urgency. Does he really think I don't know this?

"What about Sauron? Are the stories true? That if I touch a Seeing-stone then he will hunt for me?" He doesn't answer so I quickly look at him. I can feel the tears sting my eyes as he looks at me but I do not cry. It is a weakness that, as a female warrior, I cannot afford. I never show my tears for anyone but Aearion – not even for Ada or Naneth at her grave.

"Maybe," he says with considerable uncertainty. "My knowledge of the Stones is not as great as that of the Istarea or the Dark Lord himself."

I nod slowly, my disappointment clearly written on my face. He embraces me tightly, as if never wanting to let go or afraid I'll die. Both of which go hand-in-hand, and are not unlikely at this time. Balanidhren, growing impatient, nudges his head on my back making both of us laugh, truly happy, for the first time in a long time.

"Leûra, return to me alive, and not as you saw," Aearion tones sternly. I nod and walk to my dear friend. "Tenna' ento lye omenta, gwathel." Smiling at him, I go back and hug him once more. I don't want to go but he grabs my hands, kisses both of my knuckles, and places them on his forehead. I do the same for him, as is our private custom.

"Cormamin niuve tenna' ta elea lle au', gwanur," I tell him tearfully. Without wasting another moment, I rush onto Balanidhren's back and we are flying toward the top of the dome.

Thousands of feet in the air, I can still hear my people below. I don't know if they're cheering me on or calling me to come back but, either way, I ignore them. Whispering a few words into my faithful Drake's ear, he flies harder and faster toward the top. I close my eyes in fear as I feel him break through the shield and water washes over me. My breath catches in my throat, I instinctively hold it in, and all I can do is dig into Balanidhren's scales and hold on.

"We are safe now. You can open your eyes." At the sound of my Drake's thunderous, yet kind accented voice, I open my eyes and look around. Lush grass, vast mountains and plains, endless waterfalls and rivers stretch across Middle-earth as far as my blue eyes can see.

"It's beautiful," I whisper wistfully, not even caring that my eyes are as wide as a child's.

Balanidhren laughs at me, though not as to tease me. I can tell he is happy that I can finally see what he lived in years ago. Asking him if he knows the way to Rivendell, he speeds up and flies above the clouds as not to be seen by the villages we near. He knows the way, and I take some comfort in that. But, he doesn't know the secret I carry…even Aearion doesn't know. My two most trusted and, really, only friends don't know that I lied and stole from Ada.

I only hope I can find away to destroy the blasted _**palantír**_ before Sauron finds me.

_**A/N:**_ The necklace Leûra wears is really a Septagram (also called an Elven Star), which is important in Western kabbalah, where it symbolizes the sphere of Netzach. It's a seven-point star used in ceremonial magick, representing seven tenets: Balance, Harmony, Humility, Learning, Reincarnation, Tolerance, Trust. Once it represented seven angels who became seven planets called the Mystic Star.

Also, Dragons/Drakes in Middle-earth, despite them being called "worms", aren't inherently evil creatures. True, they were created/bred by Morgoth, an evil lord, in the dungeons of Angband in the First Age but whether they're as gentle or vicious is unknown. I believe is up to its master to determine that; the whole Nature vs. Nuture debate.

**Translations:**

Gwanur: brother

Gwathel: sister

Istar(ea): Wizard(s)

Balanidhren: "wise power" (Bahl-ahn-ee-threnn)

Aefaradien: "hunting bird" (Eye-far-ahd-ee-ehn)

Tenna' ento lye omenta: Until next we meet

Cormamin niuve tenna' ta elea lle au': My heart shall weep until it sees thee again

P.S.: Eight pages total.


	4. The Council of Elrond

_**Disclaimer: **_I don't own _The Lord of the Rings _or any of its characters. I only own Leûra, Aearion, Undûme, Cassiopeia, Balanidhren, Aefaradien and any other original characters – so no stealing. However, I don't own Cuiviénen. That place belongs to J. R. R. Tolkien, but the stories of it in Chapter 1 and 2 are all mine.

**Chapter 4: The Council of Elrond**

It took me forever to sneak into Rivendell.

Guards are posted at every corner, most likely because leaders of the different Races are arriving. Balanidhren, just after we landed in a secluded plain, told me that if I wasn't careful in my request to speak with Lord Elrond, that I would either be locked up or killed. His warnings were useless though; I already knew that the guards wouldn't believe me if I told them who I was, much less if I showed them Naneth's pendant.

Besides, I promised myself that, before entering, I wouldn't trust any outsider so easily. I am sure they would do the same to me. And, if that doesn't work, I will fight whomever I have to, to get the information I have to Lord Elrond.

I must have been hiding in the garden, the most beautiful and amazing garden that I've ever seen, for a few hours. I can't be too sure though. There were a few close calls, like when an elleth with dark brown hair, like Naneth's, passed through with some ellon, all of which had the palest blonde hair I've ever seen. She was beautiful; I've never seen another elleth, besides my mother's image, match her. It looked as though she was giving them a tour. All of the ellon wore their hair back into braids, something I've never seen. It's odd to see ellon with hair so long; most ellon of my city, even Aearion, leave their hair short. Only Adawould look like he belonged with this group. (_**A/N: **_Just for reference, Leûra sees Arwen, Legolas, Glorfindel, and the twins, Elladan and Elrohir.)

Once they'd gone and I was certain I was alone, I left the safety of the bush of white flowers. I walked around aimlessly, hiding in corridors every now and then, until I heard voices. I slowly made my way to where they were at, still skulking in the shadows, and found the Races together for Council – just as Aearion said would happen; just as I saw. It is a strange sight indeed.

I've only read about Dwarves, Hobbits and Men; they are such curious creatures. Their lives are so fragile and rushed, but they have something to live for at each dawn; to live each day to the fullest, knowing it could be there last. They don't know how lucky they truly are.

Elrond, even though I can't see his face, is easy to make out. He speaks about the threat of Mordor, in which Middle-earth stands upon the brink of destruction. He tells everyone that none can escape it, and all gathered would unite or fall. He says that each Race is bound to this fate, this one doom. I have seen this doom with my own eyes, and I only pray that these men are wise enough to listen to Lord Elrond.

As I listen intently, I'm distracted a bit by the two Hobbits with me. They don't see me for my mother's cloak, from her home in Lórien, renders me invisible to them. I merely look like part of the pillar to them as they badger one another silently to keep quiet. The smaller of the two is quite amusing!

A Hobbit named Frodo rose from his seat rather hesitantly – how nervous he must be! –and places something of a small stone pedestal in the center of the One Ring! Valar! He walks back to his chair and sat down next to an old man, who gives him a reassuring glance. The old man is obviously one of the Istar; his staff gives him away. Lord Elrond continues. The Elves gathered either did not notice the two Hobbits eavesdropping with me or chose to ignore them. I doubt the latter, but I suppose it is wishful thinking for them.

Everyone, including myself, begin to hear whispers in the room. I know whose voice it is all too well. It is the Ring, and it is hissing about the doom of Man. But the strangers look from the Ring to their surroundings, highly suspicious of one another. They heard the voices message, too! They must have! One of the mortal Men, who I learned earlier whilst skulking the corridors, was the son of the Steward of Gondor, states that the Ring is a gift. He couldn't be more wrong; the Ring is a curse and the bane of all that exist on Middle-earth! He then suggests that they use the Ring against Sauron by giving it to Gondor.

What an utter fool!

"You cannot wield it. None of us can," a man with shaggy brown locks and facial hair protests with a heavy sigh. Finally, a man of reason and sanity! "The One Ring answers to Sauron alone. It has no other master."

"And what would a _Ranger_ know of this matter?" the Gondorian, name of Boromir, taunts the Ranger menacingly, showing his obvious dislike of him. Perhaps these two know each other outside of this Coucil?

"This is no mere Ranger," Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood, protests as he stands up to face Boromir. I remember him from the garden, when his name was mentioned in passing of my hiding place. I cannot deny he is handsome. But that is all he is; he's probably as stupid as he is handsome. "He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. You owe him your allegiance."

"Aragorn?" Boromir whispers in astonishment. "_This_ is Isildur's heir?"

"And heir to the throne of Gondor," Legolas finishes with a more threatening tone. The Ranger is to be a king? Well, I suppose stranger things have happened. Like an entire city sinking into the ocean, but surviving without a scratch.

"_Havo dad, Legolas_," Aragorn orders calmly with a wave of his hand. Being that I've never seen a mortal Man before, I'm very shocked to hear one speak my tongue so fluently. I thought for sure anyone who tried to speak it would fumble over their words. Boromir, a man I am slowly learning to distrust, looks at Legolas with the same look my father has given me many time as he walks back to his seat.

"Gondor _has_ no king," Boromir states to Legolas, directed at Aragorn, and then looks at the man himself. "Gondor _needs_ no king." He sits down and once he has done so, Legolas follows suit. The Wizard proceeds to change the subject quickly, saying that Aragorn is right, that they can't use it. Another voice of reason! Perhaps this will go more smoothly. Elrond tells them they have one choice: that the Ring _must_ be destroyed. I thought that much was obvious!

"Then what are we waiting for?" one of the Dwarves shouts and rises up, picks up his ax, and rushes over to the Ring.

He raises his ax on high, and hits the cursed Ring hard with a yell. But, on contact, his ax broke and he fell backwards to the ground. No one but I noticed the Hobbit flinch when the Dwarf's stroke fell. I watch as he begins to pant and sweat, as if under pain of death. I remember that feeling all too well; it was when I saw the Eye. When the Dwarf failed in his attack, Frodo must have seen the Eye as I had! At least I am not the only one now; I can take some small comfort in that.

"The Ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli, son of Gloin, by any craft that we here possess," Elrond states as Gimli is helped to his feet, rather embarrassed by now I gather. "The Ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom. Only there can it be unmade. It must be taken deep into Mordor and cast back into the fiery chasm from whence it came. One of you must do this."

No one speaks for a long time, nor do they seem to want to. I can't believe that these men, great leaders of this world, can be such cowards! It hurts me; it physically hurts me, and makes me ill. All my ideals of this world are a sham, a foolish dream! Great leaders, what a joke!

"One does not simply walk into Mordor," Boromir stresses with a sigh; he obviously can't believe what he's hearing, what's being suggested. "Its Black Gates are guarded by more than just Orcs. There is evil there that does not sleep, and the Great Eye is ever watchful. It is a barren wasteland, riddled with fire and ash and dust. The very air you breathe is a poisonous fume. Not with ten thousand Men could you do this. It is folly."

"Have you heard nothing Lord Elrond has said?" Legolas questions the men furiously as he rises to his feet again. He thinks them deaf, as do I. "The Ring must be destroyed!" he reiterates forcefully, but this makes Gimli rise and question the Prince's motives. Boromir begins to question what would happen if they fail, what they would do then, what they would do when Sauron took back what was his.

"I will be _dead_ before I see the Ring in the hands of an Elf!" Gimli shouts furiously, ax in the air. What does that mean exactly? Yes, Aearion has told me of the feud between our kin and the Dwarves, but I did not know it was this bad. Why does this feud even exist? Why? It makes no sense to me!

At this point, everybody at the meeting is standing up and arguing; everybody but the Wizard, Aragorn and Frodo. I notice the Wizard sighing with disappointment and disgust, rolling his eyes. I can't help but do the same; this is getting out of hand and ridiculous. I look at the two Hobbits near me and their eyes are wide with intrigue. I'm not sure if it's in amazement at the spectacle, or just sheer enjoyment.

The Races of Middle-earth can never form an alliance; this was true days ago and it remains true now.

"Never trust an Elf!" Usquen Naugrim! He is lucky I don't come out right now and remove his head from his body.

"Do you not understand? Sauron's power grows!" the Wizard shouts at Gimli's final words as Legolas holds back his kin, stopping them from killing the Dwarves. "None can escape it! You'll all be destroyed!" He moves to his feet to join the arguments with the others, but the voice of the Ring fills the air, speaking in the Black speech once again.

It grows louder and louder, and with that voice and the men added to it I feel as though my mind is caving in. I can take no longer! If that Hobbit, Frodo, had not stood when he had, I would have run in and shut them all up at the edge of my brother's knives. One of Ada's lessons: peace can only be gained as the tip of a sword, face-to-face with your enemy, not with a bow in the distance. Perhaps that is why we became tamers of Drakes, the brute force of them?

"I will take it!" Frodo states, standing up, but no one hears him; they just continue to argue like the stupid men that they are. "I will take it!" I can see the Wizard close his eyes sadly and turn to Frodo. I can only guess that they're friends who are very close, maybe like father and son; it's obvious by the pain written on his face. "I will take the Ring to Mordor. Though…I do not know the way," he added sheepishly, and I stifle a chuckle at his innocence. In all honesty, it's rather refreshing to see one so pure be so courageous.

"I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins, as long as it is yours to bear," the Wizard announces, and walks over to Frodo, standing behind him. Aragorn rises from his chair. My breath catches in my throat. Can they actually work together?

"If by my life or death I can protect you, I will," Aragorn says shortly, and walks over to Frodo, just as the Wizard had, and knelt down in front of him. "You have my sword." Aragorn stood up and moved him.

Legolas, who told him he had his bow, stood behind Frodo as well. Gimli walked over to Frodo as well, stating he had his ax, and stood next to Legolas. I watch as the two look at one another distastefully, then back at Elrond. Both of them sigh with disdain.

"You carry the fate of us all, little one," Boromir states quietly as he slowly walks toward Frodo. I still don't trust this man as he finishes, saying that if the small alliance is the will of the Council, then Gondor would see it done, and joins the group.

"Hey!" another Hobbit, one I did not see, shouts as he runs in from the bushes. Another stifled laugh as he nearly trips over some branches. "Mr. Frodo's not going anywhere without me!" he states, arms crossed proudly, while standing next to a now smiling Frodo.

"No, indeed, it is hardly possible to separate you even when he is summoned to a secret Council and you are not," Elrond points out with a wry smile, making Sam feel a bit ashamed for a moment, but Elrond smiles at him all the same. Hearing this though, the two Hobbits with me poked their heads out from the pillars. They just looked at each other, amazed, and smiled. Running out, the small one of the pair nearly tripped over my invisble feet.

"Wait, we're coming too!" the Hobbit on my left shouted, causing Elrond to whip around. He gave them both a stern look as they ran in past him, and stood on the other side of Frodo. "You'll have to send us home tied up in a sack to stop us."

"Anyway, you need people of intelligence on this sort of mission," the one that tripped on me states, and his friend crossed his arms proudly. "Quest…thing." The smarter one of the duo, the pride in his friend gone, said that his comment clearly ruled him out.

"Nine companions," Elrond sighs with a smile. I exhale softly taking that to be my cue to come out.

"_Ten_ companions," I state from behind him. Everyone turned to see me, hood still raised but I am no longer invisible, and I can tell they're not pleased.

"This is a secret Council for the leaders of the Races. For warriors," Elrond states coldly.

"In other words, men only," I mock, moving towards Elrond. My heart is beating so fast, I can't believe I'm standing before him. "Besides, Lord Elrond, if this is a secret Council," I continue, lowering my hood, "then how is it that these three Hobbits gained entrance?" I'm not sure what shocked the group of men more: that I am a woman in men's clothing, or that I am carrying weapons.

"Who are you? The Elves have already been represented?" Frodo asks me innocently, changing the subject rather quickly to save Lord Elrond the embarrassment.

"Not all of them, _Aier_," I tell him with a kind smile. "I am Leûra Ithilelen, daughter of Undûme, the one and only King of Cuiviénen and Leader of the Dragon Knights." Elrond visibly stiffens as he hears my father's name and I stare at him. It's perfectly understandable considering the past he and my father shared.

"Cuiviénen departed into the sea in a fiery destruction at the hand of Sauron thousands of years ago," Elrond states bitterly over the hushed group.

"My home did sink into the sea, but not in destruction," I correct him with a small smile. "We were merely waiting for the opportune moment to return." I feel a little guilty lying about what really happened, especially to Elrond. He is not one to be toyed with, but at least what I say is partly true.

"I thought the Dragon Knights long to have been extinct," Aragorn muses aloud. Yes, most of the people of Middle-earth believe that and I don't blame them.

"No, Lord Aragorn, we are very much alive. My brother has sent me to aid you in anyway I can in the war against Sauron."

Elrond lowers his head solemnly as I mention Aearion. Our parent's history with him was not all Aearion told me. Everyone else, with the exception of Elrond and the Wizard, seem to believe this though they are baffled and in disbelief. The two elders are probably wondering how I know of the coming war and Sauron's appearance. If only I could tell them here and now.

"What is it you _really_ want, She-Elf?" Gimli demands with venom, making it obvious that he completely hates and despises Elves.

"Master Dwarf, I merely wish to accompany young Master Baggins on the journey to Mordor to protect him."

"You are a woman," Boromir states and I stare at him. "You put the entire quest in danger. We cannot be bothered protecting you whilst protecting the Halflings!" My trust and patience with him shrinks with each passing moment.

"If you think that I need you to protect me, you are sorely mistaken," I argue, my tone rising. "I can fight just a well as any man here."

"This is no task for a woman! You could die!" Legolas points out and I sympathize with him. The last thing the races need is a princess, from a resurrected and very powerful yet deadly race, to die and cause another war.

"If I die, I would die in battle defending all of Middle-earth, and my Drake would finish what I could not," I state factually with a glare at Legolas. I know here and now that the two of us won't get along, not without some work anyway.

""Drake"? As in a Dragon?" Frodo asks with a hit of excitement and I nod respectfully.

I doubt he's ever seen a Dragon or he wouldn't be so excited. Most people believe them to be evil by nature, but with the proper training they can be quite kind and loyal beings. Boromir practically gasps before a grin grows on his face. He chuckles and I glare at him, ask him what is so amusing. He tells me that there haven't been any Dragons on Middle-earth since Sauron first appeared; that they are gone and mere stories from the Dwarves about the jewels they harvest from caves are stolen from them. A small grumble from Gimli and the other Dwarves does not go unnoticed to me.

"Perhaps the Dragons of the First Age are gone, but my people's Dragons remain. My own is hidden in the sky above us now, cloaked from your eyes. If you wish to see him, all I need do is blow this horn," I explain in the simplest terms so he's sure to understand, gesturing slightly to my white horn. "He will reveal himself if he hears its call. I assure you, he would have no problem showing you just how real he is."

"Is that a threat?" he asks, taking a step towards me but Legolas holds him back. I just smile mischievously, as if I know something he does not.

"ENOUGH!" Lord Elrond shouts and I turn my gaze to look at him. "You shall not call your Dragon into my city. Furthermore, I _cannot_ allow you to go on this journey," he said more sympathetically then angry. He merely worries for my safety; it would be sweet if I didn't know how to defend myself.

"Lord Elrond, I assure you that I have other means of protection besides my Drake. If you worry that I need these _men _to protect me, then you are wrong."

"Milord," the Istar interjects, "I believe you have misinterpreted this young lady. She may be of use." I glance at the old Istar and smile ever so slightly, bowing my head to him in both respect and thanks. I watch as both the Istar and Lord Elrond exchange glances before the ellon looks at me.

"Lord Elrond, my brother said I could count on you," I coax him quietly. I'm not pleading, though it may seem that way. I don't plead or beg, not for anything or anyone. I can't believe I'm actually behaving as a proper lady. I hope it doesn't last too long.

"Of course, I knew him well." I smile while the others, excluding Istar, seem a bit shocked at the news. "But I cannot decide this. It up to them." Elrond looks at the others, waiting for their decisions.

Aragorn simply nods and I return it respectfully. Gimli voices that it is fine that I come, as long as I didn't cower and cry when the time to fight comes. Didn't he hear me say I didn't need my Drake or them to protect me? Can't he see my knives at my waist? Ignoring him for that brief moment while I question his intelligence, I just roll my eyes and nod to him.

"If Aragorn and Gandalf—" Oh, that must be the Istar! "—find her suitable, than so do I," Legolas says with a smile and bows his head ever so slightly.

Boromir states that I should keep up because he won't hesitate to leave me behind. I take this as a fair warning and look to the Hobbits. All of them seem to want me to go; I can see it in their eyes. Frodo looks to Elrond and shakes his head "yes". I am accepted. Finally, one step is complete. I walk over to Aragorn to stand next to him, doing anything to avoid Legolas and Boromir. I can't afford to be distracted by a handsome face, or risk killing a foolish mortal.

"So be it, you shall be the Fellowship of the Ring," Elrond states resting his hands together with a small smile. All four of the Hobbits smile happily and look at each other. The Hobbit in front of me crosses his arms, shaking his head in approval.

"Great!" the Hobbit that tripped over me before exclaims, giving a big smile. "Where are we going?" His friend uncrosses his arms and looks at him with disappointment, as do the rest of us. Can one person really be that dense?

No matter, I've completed my mission and am part of the Fellowship. Even though I am intrigued by the beings around me, I cannot become attached. If I do, I could get them or myself killed. So, it's settled then. I distance myself from the others when not fighting and keep myself from failing. I reveal nothing about my visions or past to any of them.

This is for the best. I'm sure of it.

_**A/N:**_ Yes, Leûra's epessë (nickname or honorary title) is a variation of my own creation using Arwen's as a model. Arwen is known as "Arwen Evenstar" or "Arwen Undómiel" (dusk/evening-star) so I made Leûra's moon-star. The only real difference is that Arwen's epessë is in Quenya and mine's in Sindarian. I tried about several others and none of them sounded right. And, no, Ithilelen is not the same as Gondor's _**Ithilien.**_

Havo dad: Sit down

Aier: Short One

Usquen Naugrim: Smelly Dwarf

Ithilelen: Moonstar (ith-ill-ell-en)

P.S.: Eight pages total.


	5. Making Amends

_**Disclaimer: **_I don't own _The Lord of the Rings _or any of its characters. I only own Leûra, Aearion, Undûme, Cassiopeia, Balanidhren, Aefaradien and any other original characters – so no stealing. However, I don't own Cuiviénen. That place belongs to J. R. R. Tolkien, but the stories of it in Chapter 1 and 2 are all mine.

**Chapter 5: Making Amends**

We have left the Council room floor and moved to our separate rooms to prepare for our depature. Well, the others have gone to their rooms. I do not have nor require one. Instead, I follow Lord Elrond. I owe it to him to tell him about my father. Maybe he can offer some wisdom of his own and I won't have to meet with the Lady Galadriel at all.

"Lord Elrond?" He stands in his private study. It reminds me of my father's, filled with books and papers. "I need to speak to you about my father. It is of great importance." This must have caught his attention because he wasn't looking at me before.

"How does Undûme fare? Did he survive Sauron?" He doesn't sound too concerned, my guess is that he was hoping my father hasn't lived.

"Yes, but our city fell into Helcar, as you know." How can I forget that moment? He had been deep in thought when I said that my home was waiting for the opportune moment to return. If I had been him and heard that a destroyed city was "plotting," I don't know what I would have done.

"Yes, I assume your mother performed her magic and saved your city though?" My eyes widen slightly hearing this. He knows more about my family than I realized.

"Yes, sir, she did. Unfortunately, it would be her last act as Queen." This caught his attention as well. He now stares at me expectantly, waiting for me to continue, with a hint of fear in his eyes. I don't want to continue though; it'll break his heart. "She died giving birth to me."

He doesn't speak, just solemnly lowers his head and keeps his distance.

"I'm sorry. Cassiopiea was like a sister to me." Like a sister? Aearion failed to mention that. He must be dying at this news! How can I be so stupid? I should have lied and told him everything was fine! "And your brother, how is he?"

"Growing tired of fish as much as everyone else." He smiles at me, and I smile back respectably. Maybe this will go better than I thought? Well, one can't get ahead of themselves. I still have to finish what I set out to do when I followed him. "He told me what happened between the two of you. I'm sure he would want you to know he is sorry."

"I'm sure he is," he replies coldly and all I can do is hang my guilt filled head. "How did you manage to get here?" His sudden question startled me, forcing me to look up at him and explain everything…within reason.

"Drakes still remain in the city. The spell formed a protective shield over us that were high enough for them to fly. I took my own Drake and pushed him through it. He knew the way here, and Aearion gave me a map. I only hoped Rivendell survived the war and that you could help me."

"Help you? How so?" He walks over to me, sounding truly concerned for the first time since I arrived. It's a little disturbing to be honest.

"I had hoped that Sauron truly hadn't risen again, but it's obvious he has. With that in mind, I think you should know that he's contacted my father again."

"The Stone?" I nod, remembering how gwanur told me that he knew about father's escapade with the Seeing-stone. "I should think he'd been wise enough to destroy that after Sauron buried him." He was furious and, obviously, disappointed as he turns back to his desk.

"He assured Aearion and I that he had, but it wasn't to be." Elrond sighes heavily and I sigh with him, but move to stand next to him. "Milord, you were close to my father, correct?"

"As your mother was like my sister, your father was like my brother." At last, some good news since I've arrived.

"Well, that would make you like my uncle then, wouldn't it?" He looks at me, and I just gaze back hopeful. He must see this because he gives a coy smile and nods. Seeing this, I break into my own smile and brace myself. "I used the Stone, sir. I used it to see if Ada was really was taken by the Dark Lord." His face grows dark and he straightens his back to look down on me. I gulp. Valar, he can scowl! "My suspicions were true, along with seeing the Eye and…well, Aearion seems to think I saw my own death."

"Your pass? Is that all you saw?" He can't believe what he was hearing. He must think that the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.

"Besides you, destruction, and the Fellowship, yes. I was wondering if you could help me." Elrond turns from me, walking toward a window that overlooks the Council floor. I join him and see that the four Hobbits are still standing together, conversing happily. He doesn't speak for a long time, and I don't push him to do so. We just stand side by side, pondering.

"All I can say to you is that you must speak to the Lady Galadriel." I sigh and nod sadly; this great man can't help me at all.

"I know. I planned on it. I was just hoping you might have…I don't know, a few words of wisdom." I must sound like a child to him.

"Besides for you to be careful and stay close to Gandalf and Aragorn, no. I have nothing else to offer to you." My head falls again as his words wash over me.

"I see. I'll take my leave of you then. _Diola lle_." I bow to him, which he returns, and I make my way towards the closed doors. But, I only open one halfway before I stop and look back at him. He's still gazing out the window thoughtfully. The time to make amends is now or never. "Um, Lord Elrond? I'm sorry…" He turns and looks confused, but completely understanding at the same time. "…About everything."

"Be safe, Leûra, for your brother and people's sake." I smile at him, happy to have his understanding and approval after so many years of guilt and hate. It's good to know that if I ever go home, my brother can have peace of mind.

**Translations:**

Diola lle: Thank you

P.S.: Three pages total.


	6. Martyr From Darkness

_**Disclaimer: **_I don't own _The Lord of the Rings _or any of its characters. I only own Leûra, Aearion, Undûme, Cassiopeia, Balanidhren, Aefaradien and any other original characters – so no stealing. However, I don't own Cuiviénen. That place belongs to J. R. R. Tolkien, but the stories of it in Chapter 1 and 2 are all mine.

_**A/N:**_ I paraphrased some of this chapter from the _FotR _book, pages 292-94. So I don't really own those parts, sorta.

**Chapter 6: Martyr from Darkness**

The Fellowship and I spend our last hours together until we notice the sun starting to set. We are to start at dusk, for Elrond counseled us to travel under the cover of the night as often as we could, until we are far from Rivendell.

"Look not too far ahead! But go now with good hearts! Farewell, and may the blessing of the Elves and Men and all Free Folk go with you. May the stars shine upon your faces!"

Many others of Elrond's household stand in the shadows and watch us leave, bidding us farewell with soft voices. There is no laughter, and no song or music. At last we find the strength to turn away and fade silently into the dusk. Crossing the bridge and winding slowly up the long steep paths that lead out of the cloven vale of Rivendell, we encounter length to the high moor where the wind hisses through the heather. Then, with one glance at the Last Homely House twinkling below us, we strode away far into the night with more sorrow than I thought possible.

And so we left Rivendell with the Istar – Gandalf, I have learned his name is – walking first leading us, then Aragorn who seems to know the land even in the dark. Why I am surprised I know not, after all he is a Ranger. Frodo and Sam, who is holding the reins to a pony, trail behind the two, then come Boromir, Gimli, Merry, Pippin and last Legolas and I as the rearguards. We walk over vast mountains and fields, traveling long distances and have short breaks.

Friendships have already begun to form within our circle. Gimli, like myself, has taken a liking to all four Hobbits while they, in turn, enjoy his company. I am still wary of the Dwarf Lord, however, due to the writing of home about Dwarves. I sense that the Elf Legolas also feels hesitant about the Dwarf. Boromir and Aragorn are on fairly good terms, but I don't believe it to last with Boromir harboring hatred for the Ranger. The Gondorian's hate hangs off of him like rotted flesh on the bone. Gandalf seems to be the only one who gets along with everyone.

Frodo, the poor child, has come to trust me and I almost feel like a mother to him and the other Hobbits. He is intrigued by me from the few stories I tell him about my home, our Drakes. Trust has been between us since Rivendell, and that is all I care about. Everyone except Boromir, who still has his suspicions, and Gimli, who just doesn't think me appropriate for a Lady of my stature, trusts me to make good on my word to protect Frodo.

I don't care what the others think of me though as long as they keep their distance and remain safe. Their safety as well as my own, that much I care about.

The Hobbit Pippin relayed to me that reminded him of Aragorn. I was offended to be compared to a mortal, until he said that we both seem independent and closed-hearted. Gandalf knows the truth about my family from Elrond, and he knows the ways of my race. Both say that we are a proud and noble race of Elves, fierce and loyal, much like our Drakes.

But Frodo seems to be the only one that sees that there is more to me than I let on. Despite all his questions, he said that he knew he could trust me with his life. After hearing that, I felt guilty for keeping my secrets and lying about my real reasons for being with them.

Passing some castle ruins, Legolas stealthily strides up to me and decides to talk. My theory is that he's trying to get to know me, that or figure out my secret. I would gladly tell if I could.

"May I ask you a question?" I give him a sideways glance before responding.

"Of course, Legolas." My reply is cold and filled with contempt as my eyes stay on the course ahead. "What's on your mind?"

"Well…the horn you use to bring forth your Dragon, if all Dragon Knights use a horn, isn't hard to gain _your_ Dragons aid instead—?"

"Instead of another Knights'?" I interrupt, and he simply nods. "Size and shape," I state calmly; Legolas is about to ask me what I mean but Gimli comes up with a sigh.

"Keep moving, _Elves_," he says gruffly, pushing his way past us. Though the writing explains that as an Elf I should hate Dwarves, it does not explain why. I wonder what the Dwarves of this side of the world did to make my kind hate them so?

"We all use a horn," I continue, "but it's the difference in the horn's size and shape that matters." I'm explaining this with an annoyed sigh that resembled Gimli's. "Those are the two most important factors in summoning a Dragon. The _right _Dragon. As a child, my brother trained me." Another partial lie on my half, but I can't very well tell him the truth. I wonder what he would say if I told him my Drake follows us even now. Ever watchful is Balanidhren.

"To call your Dragon?" I look at him for the first time since Rivendell and tell him the truth. The truth being that I trained to call any Dragon and that when I finally called one, it was our Lieutenant's Dragon. A once vile creature, a spoil of war, from Mordor. "Mordor has dragons?"

"Not anymore. They belong to the Cuiviénen Army now. As we speak, my father's army, my brother's army, is training. As are the citizens. None of them want to Middle-earth to fall into darkness like we had. When the time comes, they'll fight and die for this land with the honor of having defended their home. As will I."

"You're brave," he states and I turn my eyes to the course ahead of me again. I don't need to hear him talk about how brave I am. I got enough of that with Aearion and Elrond. "The bravest woman I've ever seen in times of war. Willing to martyr yourself so all other life can thrive and prosper."

"Aren't you willing to die for this cause?" I ask with more conviction than anything else. My patience is beginning to wear thin for this philosopher.

"If we weren't, why would any of us be here?" The cynic in me rises to the surface yet again.

"All of you are here to gain a place in the history of Middle-earth. To help a Hobbit destroy the Ring of Power. Gain credit for each of your separate lands and races."

"Then why are you here, if not for that reason?" I'm guessing that he finds it unbelievable that I act in such a manner. That I'm not the optimist of the group like most Elves are.

"Because…I had no choice in the matter, and I'd appreciate it if you'd stop asking so many questions about my life and motives as to why I'm here." I say rudely, quickening my pace to get toward the front to speak privately with Gandalf.

Aragorn apparently heard our conversation and is now eyeing me carefully. I suppose he is surprised at my rudeness toward one of my kin. He and Legolas watch me as I speak to Gandalf, confused. Legolas is an Elf, therefore making him smart enough to know to question a fellow companion's motives, especially a woman's. But if Elrond, Gandalf and the Hobbits trust me, he has no choice but to trust me as well…even if it kills us both.

P.S.: Three pages total.


	7. Myths of the Crucible

_**Disclaimer: **_I don't own _The Lord of the Rings _or any of its characters. I only own Leûra, Aearion, Undûme, Cassiopeia, Balanidhren, Aefaradien and any other original characters – so no stealing. However, I don't own Cuiviénen. That place belongs to J. R. R. Tolkien, but the stories of it in Chapter 1 and 2 are all mine.

**Chapter 7: Myths of the Crucible**

"Gandalf, may I speak freely?" He nods at me and my voice becomes hushed as not for the others, including Legolas, to hear. My blood is practically boiling from my previous conversation with the ellon, but I have to calm down. My mission is far from over. "I assume Lord Elrond spoke with you before we left this evening?"

"That he did. He told me about you father and your…" He is silent for a moment, lowering his own voice, trying to find the proper word. "…Problem." I lower my head and sigh.

I should have known Lord Elrond would tell the Istar, but it's understandable. He is our leader on this quest and has every right to know of the burden I bear. I ask him if he was told anything else, about my family, but he says no.

"Then I think you should know that I am preborn." His eyes go wide and he looks as though he's about to drop dead. Gandalf keeps moving though.

Being preborn is very rare and sometimes feared. It is when the child wakes from within the womb before birth, and sometimes kills the mother as I did. As a result of my birth, I sometimes hear voices whispering to me, guiding me. Those voices that I hate so guided me to the Stone, they allowed me to embrace the voice of Sauron and fall prey to him.

"Your path is dangerous," he whispers to me after a long silence. "The unholy storm that cannot be stopped. You will become that storm—the whirlwind. And nothing will be able to stop you, not even yourself."

"Do you _try_ to frighten me?" He laughs at my words, which are filled with more sarcasism than anything. "I know of what you speak, Gandalf. It is the thing I have feared since my curse first became apparent."

"You meddled in the future," he states quietly as he looks back at the others. I do the same and see that none of them can hear a word we speak of. We looked ahead and he continues, positive we will not be interupted. "In all possible futures, trying to create them."

"You would have been right had you known me years ago," I reply shamefully, shaking my head as I think back to how stupid I was as a child. "Instead they created me…and I became trapped by it." We both fall silent and continue to walk carefully over the rocky terrain. Something stirs within me though; it unsettles and disturbs me. "I feel as though we are being watched. As if a trap is being set and we are walking right into the hands of the enemy."

"Knowing there's a trap is the first step in evading it. The first step along your _own_ path." I look at him curiously. How can he say that? This isn't just _my _path, _my_ quest; it's all of ours. He sounds so wise and sure of himself. I suppose those are two factors of the Istarea. "Don't be afraid. The answer is right in front of you."

"We're about to go through the crucible, Gandalf. How can you remain so calm when the danger is so near?"

"Because I am sure we will come out the other side." There it is again: that simple confidence that I lack and wish for. I never thought I would envy a man. "We always arise from our own ashes. Everything returns later in its changed form."

"That's a somewhat pleasant thought. I'm not sure if I believe it though; it seems more like wishful thinking than anything, Gandalf. A myth."

"A myth I have allowed to persist until I am ready," he replies vaguely and we continue to walk in silence. Though I'm happy about telling him the truth of my birth, it can't be helped. It is the only way to better help him understand. Maybe now he can trust me fully just as I now do him.

P.S.: Two pages total.


	8. The Ring Goes South

_**Disclaimer: **_I don't own _The Lord of the Rings _or any of its characters. I only own Leûra, Aearion, Undûme, Cassiopeia, Balanidhren, Aefaradien and any other original characters – so no stealing. However, I don't own Cuiviénen. That place belongs to J. R. R. Tolkien, but the stories of it in Chapter 1 and 2 are all mine.

**Chapter 8: The Ring Goes South**

After nine days of travel we finally reached Hollin and it was decided to rest and plan to discuss next area of travel. Boromir is teaching Merry and Pippin sword fighting, while Aragorn and Gandalf sit on some nearby rocks. Aragorn, near Boromir, watches him teach the Halflings while smoking his pipe. Elsewhere, Legolas stands on the cliff's edge, looking at something, while Sam and Frodo eat some food by the fire. I sit on Aragorn's right, but I am not watching Boromir and the two Hobbits.

I'm twirling my short swords around my fingers, looking at the earth beneath me all the while. My thoughts drift back to Aearion and I wonder how he fares with father: if he's restrained himself enough to keep father alive. I hope he has for I still need to get to Lady Galadriel and see if she knows a way to save him. Why I bother, I don't know. Honestly, I don't love the man or even care for him, so why? Maybe it's the simple fact that I'm his child and I must?

"We must hold to this course, west of the Misty Mountains, for 40 days." Gandalf states. "If our luck hold, the Gap of Rohan will still be open to us. From there, our road turns east to Mordor."

"Two, one, five. Good! Very good," Boromir compliments Merry then moves onto Pippin to do the same drill. Aragorn tells the little troublemaker to move his feet, teeth firmly planted on his pipe as smoke circulates around his head. I coughed a few times, not used to the aroma it sets off. Another piece of man that I don't understand: smoking. Meanwhile, Gimli moves toward Gandalf and starts complaining.

"If anyone was to ask for my opinion, which I note they're not, I'd say were taking the _long_ way 'round." All of us groan mentally with a roll of our eyes. I sigh. Gimli must have complained about everything since we set out, this was just another on the list. "Gandalf, we could pass through the Mines of Moria. My cousin Balin would give us a royal welcome."

"No, Gimli, I would not take the road through Moria unless I had no other choice."

Moria? I've read of that place. A simple mine of the Dwarf Lords, nothing more, nothing less. I'll admit, the Dwarf does have a point. Why_ not _go through Moria? It would certainly give us shelter from the eyes of our enemies. Gandalf almost sounded fearful when he spoke to Gimli. He must have his reasons.

Legolas suddenly runs past us and I look at him oddly, wondering what he could be doing, before sheathing my weapons of choice and catching up with him. From out of the corner of my eye I see Aragorn notices my action. He is probably thinking me odd considering how rude I had been earlier in the journey. But I ignore the thought as I stand next to Legolas. I wonder what he's doing before catching on: he's scouting the area. We had just jumped over some rocks to higher ground and began to search the skies.

I hear some laughing and a scuffle back at the camp, but my eyes stay toward the skies. But my eyes seem to drift away from their course and go to the land. I've never seen so many mountains, not even when I started my journey upon Balanidhren's back. This place is truly beautiful, and so much better than seeing fish all day long. I'll do everything I can to make sure it stays this way, and not become a vast, barren wasteland of death and destruction.

"What is that?" Sam asks and I snap back to reality. I turn to see him stand uo and to look at the sky. I look back and see something as well. It's…black.

"Nothing, just a wisp of cloud," Gimli retorts, seated on the rocks. He is obviously still sore from Gandalf dismissing his information.

"It's moving fast." Boromir says to Aragorn, finally standing up with Merry and Pippin. "Against the wind."

I look at Legolas to see if I can guess what he thinks it is and notice his eyes. They…they're brighter, somehow. I don't understand it. Shaking my head, I look back at the…thing in the sky. Birds. It's a flock of birds!

"It's just a flock of birds," I tell them. I turn and jump off the rocks to go back to camp. As I pass Aragorn, I notice him looking at me with an odd gaze. Why?

"No! Crebain from Dunland!" Legolas warns.

He turns and jumps down from his position. I notice that he turned to help me but soon found I had already jumped down, two rocks ahead of him, landing next to Gandalf. I don't understand what was so wrong with these birds, but everyone is in hurry to hide from them. There must be something wrong then. As Legolas continues his way to the bottom, I see Sam and Frodo hurry to dispose of the fire.

"Hide!" Aragorn orders.

"Take cover!" Boromir adds frantically.

When the fire is out, all of us grab our packs and hide under some of the rocks. I thought I was alone until I felt a body behind me, a rough hand over my mouth. The huge flock of Crebain fly over the area quickly, shrieking and squawking, and left just the same after they found nothing. Coming out of our hiding places, we look up at the sky. I can see relief wash over the others because they see that the Crebain are far from us. I'm still confused. I look behind me and see the man that had covered my mouth had been Gimli. I glare at him furiously for touching me, but he looks up sheepishly as if to apologize. I can't be mad after that; he was only trying to keep me from revealing their location. I nod to him, pat his shoulder and move away to listen to Gandalf.

"Spies of Sauman," he grumbles. Oh, so that's why they were afraid of the birds. This Saruman must be an ally of the enemy. "The passage south is being watched. We must take the Path of Caradhras."

P.S.: Three pages total.


	9. The Path of Caradhras

_**Disclaimer: **_I don't own _The Lord of the Rings _or any of its characters. I only own Leûra, Aearion, Undûme, Cassiopeia, Balanidhren, Aefaradien and any other original characters – so no stealing. However, I don't own Cuiviénen. That place belongs to J. R. R. Tolkien, but the stories of it in Chapter 1 and 2 are all mine.

**Chapter 9: The Path of Caradhras**

Our new path in the long journey takes us far into the snowy frigid north. I've never seen snow; I didn't even know what it was until the Hobbits explained it to me. Even though I'm chilled to the bone, I've grown fond of the snow. So much so that I even threw some at Gimli. He was furious but he kept quiet, whereas the Hobbits had a good loud laugh. I noted that the others chuckled under their breath at the Dwarf's misfortune and my success. But, our small joy was short-lived as our bodies grew numb and shivered under the winds.

While climbing up the mountain pass, noises arose from the back. We stop and look back to see what had happened, we discover Frodo has tripped and fallen backwards. Luckily, Aragorn catches him and helps him to his feet. Frodo begins to check himself, not a scratch on the boy remarkably, but he soon panicks. My heart jumps to my throat. Where is the Ring? Valar, it must have fallen off when he tumbled down the pass!

I immediately start to head down to help them look for it when I spot Boromir. He has the Ring, holding it at eye length by its chain; he gazes at it in a trance of sorts. Never in my life have I seen such an act, especially not by a man, over a piece of jewelry. But, I know what the Ring is capable of and I believe my distrust of Boromir is within good reason. After a small threat from Aragorn, he returns the Ring to Frodo and chuckles before he starts to walk up hill again, ruffling Frodo's hair.

My worry about Boromir doesn't leave me. I stare at him, scowl and wait for his next move.

A storm soon brews at the mountain. It was so sudden and now the snow is at our waists! Trying to cross the mountain while the bitter winds blow and more snow piles onto us, it is not an easy task. I am shivering and my teeth are chattering and I notice Gimli grumbling about Elves. I'm confused until I look down; I'm walking ontop of the snow! So is Legolas! I guess that has to do with our unique ability as light steppers; everyone else is trudging.

Wait. What is that sound?

A voice? Yes, it is a voice, carried in the winds. It echoes through the mountain valley. I can hear Gimli grumbling about Legolas and I walking ontop of the snow as the ellon passes him. He must hear the voice as well for he is walking in the direction I sense it is coming from. I stop next to Aragorn, who is carrying Sam and Frodo against the wind; Boromir is doing the same for Merry and Pippin.

The voice is louder. Thundering almost. I can't ignore it. It hurts my ears, makes them ache even more than the cold does. I walk past Gandalf to stand beside Legolas, listening to the wind circulating around us.

"_Cuiva nwalca carnirassë nai yarvaxëa rasselya!" _

Quenya! I know that tongue anywhere! It was first developed in my home, by my ancestors, before they encountered the Vala Oromë!

"Only a wicked soul could speak such in our tongue!" I shout over the wind to Legolas on my right.

"There is a fell voice on the air!" he shouts back to Gandalf.

"It's Saruman!"

A disturbing cracking comes from above us and, upon looking up, I see a large chunk of the icy mountain fall towards us. Leaning against the mountain to avoid it, I see we are all lucky and avoided being hit, but this Saruman continues to chant his spell. Aragorn advises Gandalf that our enemy is trying to bring the mountain down upon us, and that we should turn back.

"No!" Gandalf raises himself on the snow so he is positioned like Legolas and I. I watch and shiver as he begins to chant a counter spell. "Losto Caradhras, sedho, hodo, nuitho i'ruith!"

"_Cuiva nwalca carnirasse; nai yarvaxea rasselya; taltuva notto-carinnar!"_

A bolt of lightning suddenly strikes the mountain, causing more rocks to come tumbling down. We all lean against the mountain again, but I am not so lucky this time. I do not know about the others, but I am completely buried under the snow. I don't know who came out first; all I know is that I am pulled to the surface with a gasping breath and see Legolas. His pale skin almost glows an unhealthy blue as he squints to see through the blizzard.

"_Sut naa lle?_" he asks.

I nod, shaking his hands off of me and rise to my feet on my own. I don't need his help. I look around and see Aragorn behind me, pulling Frodo and Sam to their feet. Legolas had, thankfully, left my side, to pull Gimli up and Boromir had a good hold of Merry and Pippin. Gandalf was the last to rise. I suppose he is not as strong as I thought.

"We must get off the mountain!" Boromir points out, stating the already obvious. He seems to do that a lot. "Make for the Gap of Rohan and take the West Road to _my_ city!"

"The Gap of Rohan takes us too close to Isengard!" Aragorn argues over the wind.

Isengard? The city of the White Wizard? He's our enemy, too? Is this Saruman I keep hearing about the White Wizard? He must be, if he is the one that cast the spells to bring down the mountain. I did not know this. How is this even possible? I suppose the will of Sauron stretches to even the most powerful beings of good.

"If we cannot pass over a mountain, let us go _under_ it!" Gimli suggests yet again. "Let us go through the Mines of Moria!" Gandalf gazes at Gimli with fear in his eyes, I note, as he tries to think of an excuse to avoid Moria at all costs.

"Let the Ring-bearer decide. Frodo?" Frodo looks up at Gandalf, then at the rest of us. This one decision could affect the rest of our journey. For better or worse, he doesn't know, but he has to make a choice. If he doesn't, we'll never hear the end of Gimli's complaints and we'll continue to freeze to death.

"We'll go through the mines." I watch Gandalf stiffen and pause for a moment before agreeing, albeit reluctantly. I honestly think he doesn't want to go anywhere near Moria. It looks as though I am not the only one in the Fellowship with a secret.

**Translations:**

Cuiva nwalca carnirassë nai yarvaxëa rasselya: Wake up cruel Redhorn! May your horn be bloodstained!

Losto Caradhras, sedho, hodo, nuitho i'ruith: Sleep Caradhras, be still, lie still, hold your wrath

Cuiva nwalca carnirasse; nai yarvaxea rasselya; taltuva notto-carinnar: Wake up cruel Redhorn! May your bloodstained horn fall upon enemy heads!

Sut naa lle: How are you?

P.S.: Three pages total.


	10. Moria

_**Disclaimer: **_I don't own _The Lord of the Rings _or any of its characters. I only own Leûra, Aearion, Undûme, Cassiopeia, Balanidhren, Aefaradien and any other original characters – so no stealing. However, I don't own Cuiviénen. That place belongs to J. R. R. Tolkien, but the stories of it in Chapter 1 and 2 are all mine.

**Chapter 10: Moria**

We walk up a rocky path, but Gimli takes it upon himself to barge and push his way to the front and looks around. I was going to shout at the Dwarf Lord for his arrogance until he announces that we made it to the Walls of Moria. Thank Valar! Much as it shames me to admit it, I need a moment to rest, as do the Hobbits. Oh, Valar, we _all_ need to rest! As we continue to walk on, we come to a large watering hole and a tall stone door. The entrance to the Mines, I assume.

"Dwarf doors are invisible when closed," Gimli announces, quite proudly.

"Yes, Gimli, their own masters cannot find them if their secrets are forgotten," Gandalf explains further. Interesting.

"Why does that not surprise me?" Legolas mutters with disdain. I look at him a moment, scowling but confused. He just trudges on past me, ignoring both my stare and Gimli's sputtering.

"Well, let's see." Gandalf walks up to the stonewall and brushes away it's, what seemed to be, many years of dust. "Ithildin. It mirrors only starlight and moonlight."

His eyes soon turn up to the sky and I follow his gaze. The clouds are passing over the moon, revealing it's full form and beauty. Such beauty that I've never seen and long to never leave. But my thoughts are interupted by the doors suddenly glowing, revealing an arch with stars and an inscription. I've never seen anything like it. I only thank Valar, for the first time ever, that none of the others saw my face when the door glowed. I'm in awe.

"It reads: "The Doors of Durin, Lord of Moria. Speak, friend, and enter"."

"What do you suppose that means?" Merry asks confused, still staring at the doors completely amazed. I can't help but smirk and share his astonishment.

"Oh, it's quite simple. If you are a friend, you speak the password and the doors will open. _Annon Edhellen edro hi ammen!_" the Istar speaks in a combination of Elvish and Dwarvish with ease, holding his staff against the doors. When he finishes, the doors did not open. "_Lasto beth!_" Nothing. He pulled his staff away from the door and started to push on it hopeful, but the doors didn't budge. What has blocked our path _this _time?

"Nothing's happening," Pippin points out.

"I once knew every spell in the all tongues of Elves, Men and Orcs," is all Gandalf says. He sounds confused.

"What are you going to do then?" the Hobbit asks him.

"Knock your head against these doors, Peregrin Took! And if that does not shatter them, and I am allowed a little peace from foolish questions, I will try to find the opening words," Gandalf threatens and Pippin immediately quietens. That was harsh. Stepping up behin Pippin, I place my hands on his shoulders and he looks up at me.

"Come, _Aier_. Leave Gandalf to think," I tell him and steer him away from the Istar.

* * *

What feels like hours later, Gandalf continues to speak in the same combination of Elvish and Dwarvish tiredly. Meanwhile, the rest of us are doing whatever else out of boredom of watching Gandalf. Though I hate to admit it, I'm beginning to lose my faith in the old Istar. I look around our little makeshift camp.

Boromir sits on some rocks, Gimli joining him while Merry and Pippin are throwing rocks into the water. Frodo sits on some rocks nearest Gandalf while Legolas and I are just standing around. I know not what he is doing for certain, but I am keeping my eyes on the surrounding area. Just in case. I've decided to remain true to my original decision to keep my distance, so I stray from the others for as far as I can go, especially from Lords Legolas and Gimli. Aragorn, on the other hand, is taking the Hobbit Sam up the path we came, Sam's pony's reins in hand.

I vaguely hear him saying that the mines are no place for a pony. Sam said his sad good-bye and let Bill go up the path and out of site. Aragorn reassures Sam that Bill knows the way home. The pony may know the way home, but it doesn't mean he'll get there. My heart goes out to the stout Hobbit, but nothing else. Never anything else.

After he and Sam walk down the path again, they come across Merry and Pippin at the water's edge. They are still amusing themselves by throwing stones into the water, but before Pippin can throw another stone Aragorn grabs his hand. Pippin and Merry look at him confused, as did I. What is wrong with this man? Can't he let them have a little fun?

"Do not disturb the water," he warns, looking at the water thoughtfully.

"I'm beginning to think we were better off on the mountain," I state while crossing my arms, tired of looking at my reflection in the water.

"I never thought I'd live to see the day an _Elf_ was pessimistic," Gimli retorts with a hand rested on his knee. "Your kind are always so cheerful and content, frolicking in the woods." Legolas glares at him, ready to kill the Dwarf, but as he is about to speak up I speak again. I will not let him assume things about me, not at all.

"Well, I never thought I'd live to see the day a Dwarf did not complain. I guess I'll have to keep waiting on that one." Gimli looks at me in shock and begins to stammer. "Besides, I'm not a pessimist. I'm a realist, and anyone can see it was _stupid_ to come here!"

"Are you calling me stupid, She-Elf?" Gimli shouts at me, rising to his feet stand toe-to-toe with me. I almost laugh; he only reaches just above my waist.

"It is folly to be here!" I argue hotly. "We are out here, in the middle of the night, surrounded my mountains, with our backs to a wall that supposedly leads to an underground city! We are at a great disadvantage should the enemy find us! It was stupid to listen to you!"

"Enough, you two!" Gandalf shouts at our raised voices, obviously frightening us both. Both of us back down and go back to being quiet. Gimlie storms off, back to sit on his rocks, and I cross my arms. Stupid Dwarf. No wonder my kin hates them so; stubborn idiots the lot of them! "Oh, it's useless," he sighes.

Weary and frustrated, he turns from the supposed door and leans his staff against a rock. He sits down next to Frodo on that same rock, removing his hat. I look at Frodo and see he is avoiding my gaze. Damn, I've made him feel guilty. It was his decision to come here, not Gimli's. Damn! Sighing, I walk from the group and lean a lone tree on the path that Aragorn set Bill on his way.

"You have been avoiding the others and myself," Legolas states, sneaking up behind me. He startled me, but I refused to show it to him. "Why do you act so?"

"As I told you before, Prince Legolas, stop asking questions about my life and motives as to why I'm here." My voice is cold as the snow from Caradhras. "_Kela, beikaer_. Leave me to my thoughts." I glare at him with all the courage I can muster. He looks me up and down before nodding and leaving me. Where he went, I do not know but I do care. I feel so guilty acting the way I do towards him. Sometimes. He seems nice enough, but there are more important things at hand.

Not far from me, I can hear the water make waves. I notice both Aragorn and Boromir stare at the water intensely, but turn from the ubsurd men to gaze at the door. I figure I should put my energy into something more constructive than staring at water or standing around. Frodo must have the same thought as he now looks intently at the door and stands up. He walks over to the door, looking at the inscription.

"It's a riddle," he realizes as he gazes up at the door. ""Speak 'friend' and enter." What's the Elvish word for 'friend'?" I look at the others and saw Aragorn and Boromir moved the other three Hobbits behind them. Why, I don't know or really care this time. What they do is their own business.

"_Mellon_," Gandalf answers. The doors suddenly rumble and slowly open as more dust falls down. A smile can't help but grace all of our faces at the sight. At last, our journey can continue! Gandalf stands up, placing a white crystal in the top of his staff, and we start to walk in with his crystal lighting the way.

"Soon, Master and Lady Elf, you will enjoy the fabled hospitality of the Dwarves. _Roaring_ fires, malt _beer_, _ripe_ meat off the bone. This, my friends, is the home of my cousin Balin and they call it a "mine." A _mine_!" he laughs heartily and I roll my eyes at the notion that any Elf could enjoy eating, much less living, in a mine.

"This is no mine," Boromir whispers. "It's a tomb."

"No. No!" Gimli shouts in agony of what he sees before him.

All around, Gandalf's crystal lights up the decayed corpses of Dwaves. Arrows sticking out of their bodies and cobwebs all over the place. There is nothing left of them, just their bones. I have to restrain myself from shielding my nose from the horrid smell. These Dwarves have long been dead. Gimli shouts again, running toward the bodies with tears in his eyes. The others look around at the corpses and the path ahead, but the Hobbits stay in the back towards the door.

To escape the smell, I move to the back with them. Perhaps I could take care of them as the others perform their own inspection. Legolas, on the other hand, kneel down by one of the bodies and pulls out the arrow to examine it. Ugh, that skeleton just came apart! When he realizes where it came from, he turns to us with an angry look on his face.

"Goblins!" he tells us and throws down the arrow. He rises to his feet and pulls out an arrow of his own, and cocked his bow in preparation. As he does so, Aragorn and Boromir pull out their swords and look around carefully.

"We make for the Gap of Rohan. We should _never_ have come here," Boromir boasts with disdain. "Now, get out of here. Get out!" he shouts as he starts to back up slowly.

"Frodo!" I hear Sam shout behind me.

I whip around to see Frodo being dragged away by an unseen enemy. Fear grips me as I watch the small boy, all my common sense gone. Sam's shouts of worry and panic with my own make the other three Hobbits turn. I shake my head and dive after Frodo, gripping his hands with my own. Frodo gasps and grips my hands tightly but he's slipping. I stuggle to pull him back, but my heels dig into the ground. Oh, Valar, I'm being dragged with him!

"Aragon!" I shout. Frodo's hands slip a little more and we're pulled even further towards the water.

"Get off him! Hold on!" Merry orders as he, Sam and Pippin hold onto Frodo's arms. As they continue to call for Aragorn, I feel tiny hands pulling at my waist. Looking over my shoulder, I make out Pippin. He's trying to pull me back.

Aragorn suddenly runs into my vision, towards the giant tentacle, and cuts it off of Frodo's leg. Frodo flies forward into my arms, sending me on my back, and I hold him tightly, panting. Before I can even ask him if he is fine, more tentacles shoot out of the water to grab us. I roll Frodo off of me, into his friends and jump to my feet, my short swords in my hands. With the others, I immediately hack through them as Legolas' arrows fly overhead.

The tentacles are gone and I turn to see the others pulling Frodo to his feet. I sigh in relief. I catch the Halfling's eyes and nod to him. He nods back, thanking me. I thought I was safe for a time until I feel something sntach me from behind. I was so startled that I dropped one of my short swords. The others, their backs are to me, and I try to shout for help but a tentacle around suddenly slides around my mouth. My pleas fall on deaf ears, though I vaguely hear my name being shouted, but I continue to clutch my one weapon firmly as I'm dragged her under the water.

No! Not the water! Anywhere but the water! After all this time of freedom and release, I can't go back! I won't! No, I have to calm down. Clear my mind, if I don't I'm as good as dead. I don't know how long I'm under, but I can't breath and my throat becomes sore and throbs with pain.

The water is cold, frigid. My eyes search the darkness around me. I can see quite well thanks to my cursed home. I see air bubbles, fish and more tentacles. Just as I'm about to see what restrains me, what cuts off my air and bruises my skin, I break the surface. Relief washes over me until the tentacle begins to wave me around in the air. My mouth is suddenly freed and I begin to shout more out of pain than fear as it tosses me around. I now know what a rag doll feel like.

"Leûra!" Aragorn shouts. Legolas begins to shoot the tentacle as Boromir pulls out his sword. I see all of them run to the water's edge, but Legolas is the only one who can do anything to help. Guilt weighs even heavier in this moment of weakness.

Tired of being the creature's toy, I decide to fight. My one arm becomes free and I twirl my sword around, quickly stabbing the tentacle holding me. I scream as the tentacle waves me around once more, but my screams soon fade as it throws me against the mountain that surrounded Moria's entrance. I crash into the jagged mountain wall. I can feel the tentacle release me and, while I should be pleased, I feel ill. I can feel my blood flow as I fall and crash back into the cold water again.

Darkness takes over.

**Translations:**

Annon Edhellen edro hi ammen: Gate of the Elves open now for me!

Lasto beth... (Listen to...)

Aier: Short One

Kela, beikaer: Go away, excessive one

P.S.: Five pages total.


	11. Sanctuary

_**Disclaimer: **_I don't own _The Lord of the Rings _or any of its characters. I only own Leûra, Aearion, Undûme, Cassiopeia, Balanidhren, Aefaradien and any other original characters – so no stealing. However, I don't own Cuiviénen. That place belongs to J. R. R. Tolkien, but the stories of it in Chapter 1 and 2 are all mine.

**Chapter 11: Sanctuary**

Ugh, my head hurts.

Every inch of my body hurts.

Last I remember, I was being held by that Kraken, I hit the walls of Moria followed by the water and then…nothing. Did we get through Moria already? No, not possible! Wait, how could I possibly know? How long have I been unconscious? Why am I so cold? Why can't I breathe?

"There! Look!" I hear someone shout loudly even though my ears feel clogged. Do they have to be so loud? My head hurts as it is! I try to force my eyes open, but I hurt so much.

Oh, Valar! I'm still in the water! I try to swim, or at least move, but I can't. Ugh, why me?

Wait, what is that? What is wrapping around my waist? I'm being lifted up? I'm out of the water! Thank Valar! I thought I was going to drown. Maybe I'll thank whoever has saved my life. I groan in pain as the person's arms tighten around me. Too tight. This could not be one of my companions. I groan again, finally able to move my arms to touch what's holding me. It's slimy and wet. Oh, no, please, don't be the Kraken. I force my eyes open and see the horrific face of the beast I fear, mouth open and teeth ready to rip into my flesh.

"Valar!" I shout as I come to.

I struggle to get to the dagger hidden in my boot but I can't reach. The beat is about to drop me inside its mouth. Wonderufl! I'm goingto be eaten by a best that I used to share an ocean with! I'm not sure what happened next, but Legolas must have shot a few arrows at the Kraken's head because it gives a thunderous roar. The monster begins to whip me around like before and then throws me violently. Again.

I hit yet another wall and fall to the ground, tumbling down some dusty stairs. Stairs? When I finally stop rolling and open my eyes and realize I'm inside the mine, lying amongst the cobwebs and rotted Dwarf corpses. Someone is shouting from outside the mine to get inside. I look up, dusting myself off, and see Aragorn and Boromir fighting off the last few tentacles before everyone backs into the mines, into our only safety – sanctuary.

The Kraken decides to come ashore as it sees our escape, and shoots the rest of its tentacles around. I scramble to my feet to help the others push the door shut, but the Kraken's enormous tentacles are trying to pry the doors open. It's strong, but the dumb creature obviously didn't realize the strain it would cause on the cave entrance. The ceiling starts to shake and soon collapses above the door. Boulders crash down onto the monster as everyone runs away from the door, up the path. When the shaking stops, we become surrounded by total darkness.

I hate Moria.

"We now have but one choice," I hear Gandalf say. The cavern is suddenly lit up and I see the Istar, the crystal on his staff relieving us from the torment of having to wander in the darkness of a land Valar forgot. "Be on your guard. There are older and fouler things than Orcs in the deep places of the world. Quietly now! It's a four-day journey to the other side. Let us hope that our presence may go unnoticed," he warns.

I realize that Gandalf seems to be holding something back from us. So I was right: the Istar _does_ have a secret of his own! I sit down for a moment and check myself before going to my satchel. Just as I rest my hand on the Seeing-stone, to feel if it is intact, I hear someone step to me and quickly move my hand away. I'll have to check another time.

"You all right?" Boromir asks me, but I can tell he doesn't really care. I just stand up and put a hand to my head, groaning at how many times I've been thrown into walls in the past few minutes.

"Fine. I'll be fine. Balanidhren has thrown me harder than that over grown minnow. All I need to do is…" I place my hands around my neck with a groan at the strain on my muscles, crack my neck on both sides then put my hands on my back to crack it as well. "…That." I can't help but sigh with relief at the instant sensation of release flowing through me. I no longer feel a great weight bearing down on me, not physically anyway.

"It almost ate you," he accuses me, brushing passed me to catch up with Gandalf. One would think he was afraid of the dark. I suppose he feels happy, justified in that his thoughts on whether or not a woman should have been allowed to come, are right.

"You're lucky to be alive, Lady Elf," Gimli lectures. I open my mouth to retort when he hands me back my missing short sword. I would have smiled widely, grin like a giddy child who just found their favorite toy, but I have a promise to keep. "I think you dropped this."

I don't give my thanks; I simply nod and snatch my possession from him before stepping lively up the path to walk in the light. I hear Gimli scoff in shock at my arrogance, muttering under his breath in Dwarvish. But I ignore him, as all of us often do, and we began to leave the rock-covered entrance and headed into the long dark of Moria.

P.S.: Two pages total.


	12. A Journey in the Dark

_**Disclaimer: **_I don't own _The Lord of the Rings _or any of its characters. I only own Leûra, Aearion, Undûme, Cassiopeia, Balanidhren, Aefaradien and any other original characters – so no stealing. However, I don't own Cuiviénen. That place belongs to J. R. R. Tolkien, but the stories of it in Chapter 1 and 2 are all mine.

**Chapter 12: A Journey in the Dark**

We begin to walk up the dark and dusty cobweb covered path of rocks and corpses. Gandalf leads the way with his staff providing light and followed by Legolas, then Gimli, Sam, Frodo, myself, Merry, Pippin, and Aragorn and Boromir covering the end. Guarding Frodo and the other four Hobbits from behind is their duty and they will see it through; the rest of us will guard the front, though it seems that the men believe they must protect me as well now. Stupid, insipid men! One little mistake and I'm reduced to a "defenseless" woman!

I can hear Gandalf speaking to Gimli with a hushed voice. He still sounds worried. We walk into a larger room – no, large is not the right word; massive, that's more like it – with many different paths. And a very long drop. As we start to head up the steep stairwell, Pippin slips, nearly falling off and taking Merry with him.

"Pippin!" Merry scowls as he pushes himself back to his feet.

Pulling the Hobbits with me, I make sure that they won't fall. Least I can do for them as companions. Besides, Merry looks as though he'll kill poor Pippin if he trips again. Finally, at the top of the stairs, we come to two archways and their paths are both long and even darker. Gandalf looks around at their surrounding area nervously.

"I have no memory of this place."

I sigh, exasperated with the so-called great Istar. How can he not know the way in which our road turns? He's our leader, is he not? This is just ridiculous! Leaving my thoughts though, I see Gandalf feels guilty enough about this. His memory loss has made us all sit and rest at this point while we wait for him to say, "Oh, I know which direction we must go!" But it has been a while now and, while I can't speak for the others, I'm beginning to lose hope of ever getting out of the mines.

So we wait.

"Are we lost?" Pippin whispers to Merry, who whispers back angrily that they weren't. "I think we are," he adds pessimistcally.

"Shhh! Gandalf's thinking!" he orders Pippin; the last thing Gandalf needs now is Pippin's questioning.

"Merry?" Pippin's voice comes again and Merry sighes.

"What?" he replies, now aggravated by his best friend.

"I'm hungry." Merry just rolls his eyes at his friend's bottomless pit of a stomach.

I see Frodo looking over the edge of his own little cliff. What he sees, I do not know but it is enough to scare him into rushing over to Gandalf, who still sits and stares at the two paths. He is ever desperate to try to figure out which road to take. I don't bother to listen to the conversation until I hear Frodo whisper solemnly that he wished the Ring had never come to him, that he wished none of this had _ever_ happened. My heart, as it has many times over these many weeks, goes out to him. No one should have to suffer through what he does—no one.

"So do all who live to see such times, but that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us," I hear Gandalf tell the poor boy wisely. "There are other forces at work in this world, besides the will of evil. Bilbo was meant to find the Ring, in which case, you also were _meant_ to have it. And that is an encouraging thought." I look over and see the two smiling at one another. Good, Frodo is happy once more. "Oh! It's that way!" he suddenly exclaims, rising and picking up his staff. The others and myself get up as well, extremely happy that we can proceed.

"He's remembered!" Merry exclaims with a broad smile.

"No, but the air doesn't smell so foul down here. If in doubt, Meriadoc, always follow your nose. Let me risk a little more light," was Gandalfs reply. He lits the crystal again and we began to walk downward. "Behold the great realm and Dwarf-city of Dwarrowdelf."

"It's so beautiful," I say to myself as I look up at the vast, tall-standing pillars.

"There's an eye opener, no mistake," Sam says in awe as we look at the, what seemed to be, never-ending path of pillars.

P.S.: Two pages total.


	13. Balin's Tomb

_**Disclaimer: **_I don't own _The Lord of the Rings _or any of its characters. I only own Leûra, Aearion, Undûme, Cassiopeia, Balanidhren, Aefaradien and any other original characters – so no stealing. However, I don't own Cuiviénen. That place belongs to J. R. R. Tolkien, but the stories of it in Chapter 1 and 2 are all mine.

**Chapter 13: Balin's Tomb**

We all walked onward in the safety of quiet and Gandalf's light. Together we have gone a great distance through the mines without being detected. Careful to not make any noise or draw attention to ourselves, we stay close and are ever-watchful. That is until Gimli sees something and, with a rather loud gasp, he strays from the group and runs off to the side.

"Gimli!" Gandalf shouts as quietly as he can, but it does him no good. Gimli runs into an open room past some tall doors. Following him inside, we all see a stone tomb and even more skeletons and, through a small hole in the side of the wall behind the tomb, a ray of light shines through onto an inscription.

"No! No! Ugh, no…no…" The Dwarf collapses before the tomb and bows his head, weeping. Gandalf walks over to the tomb, ignoring Gimli's sobs, and reads the inscription.

""Here lies Balin, son of Fundin, Lord of Moria." It is as I feared," he sighs. So much for the warm welcome Gimli promised.

I notice Gandalf handing his hat and staff to Pippin, who looks at Merry. It's almost as if he's asking him what he should do or for some help, but his best friend does nothing. So Pippin stands as still as he can, looking as though Gandalf has charged him with some great mission. I watch as Gandalf leans over and pulls a book from the arms of a skeleton, brushing away the dust and dirt. This place has been abandoned for many years, too many. It's not safe here. We should leave!

"We must move on," Legolas points out with fear and warning in his voice. "We cannot linger."

"No! Give Gimli time," I hiss at him, effectively contridicting my previous thoughts. "He's only just discovered his family is dead." Legolas looks at me curiously and I don't understand why until a moment later. I'm an elleth, defending a Dwarf! "Besides, that book may hold clues as to what has happened here." I walk away from him, which I seem to be doing more often, and around the rest of the tomb. I've closed myself off from the others yet again as we listen to Gandalf read.

""They have taken the bridge and the second hall. We have barred the gates but cannot hold them for long. The ground shakes. Drums, drums in the deep. We cannot get out. A shadow moves in the dark. We cannot get out. They are coming"."

CRASH!

I jump as the crash echoes throughout the tomb. I'm so embarrassed, but at least I'm not the only one that jumped. We all whip around, armed and ready to attack, only to find Pippin looking down the well. The Hobbit turns back to us and, seeing the glares he's recieving, smiles sheepishly. I would have forgiven him, but Gandalf scowls at him. We all relax, sheathing our weapons. There's no danger here.

Suddenly, the whole body of the Dwarf Pippin obviously had been playing with falls down the well by a chain that had been attached to the head. The rest of the chain falls, then a bucket connected to the chain. A loud crashing comes from below and echoes. All of us hold our breath. There is a short period of silence and Pippin opens his eyes, looking at Gandalf nervously. Nothing. Not a sound. Thank Valar. I sheath my weapons again and notice I'm not alone in my relief.

"Fool of a Took!" Gandalf shouts, slamminh the book shut. He stalks over to Pippin, snatching his staff and hat away from him. "Throw yourself in next time and rid us of your stupidity." Pippin hangs his head. Gandalf actually looks at though he might go on, but there soon comes a distant rumbling. I look towards the well while Gandalf and Pippin look down it. What is here?

"Mr. Frodo!" Sam gasps, as the rumbling grows louder. I see Frodo look down at his sword; it's glowing blue. How odd? I'll need to ask him about that later.

"Orcs!" Legolas warns us. I can hear them, too; the growling and snarling, the war cries as the enemy march toward us. Boromir runs back to the door to shut it as fast as he can. We are trapped; now there is no choice but to fight.

"They're close," I whisper and, as if on que, two arrows hit the door as Boromir tries to close it. Aragorn turns to the Hobbits and orders them to get back and stay behind Gandalf. There soon comes a distant grunting as both Boromir and Aragorn struggle to close the door. The door is finally closed, but not easily.

"They have a Cave-Troll," Boromir announces casually, shrugging and out of breath. Great, just what we need.

I make haste and follow Legolas, who grabs a few tall axes and throws them to Boromir. Helping him toss the weapons, Aragorn and Boromir use them to barricade the door closed while Gandalf pulls out his sword, as do the quaking Hobbits behind him. All the while a thunderous pounding rises beyond the door. It shames me to admit it, I fear what lies beyond my sight.

"Aaah! Let them come!" Gimli proclaims, jumping on top of Balin's tomb, ax in hand. "There is one Dwarf yet in Moria who still draws breath!"

The pounding continues as Aragorn and Legolas pull out their bows and arrows. Boromir has his shield and sword out, and I twirl my short swords to stand at the ready side-by-side with the men. Axes started to come through the door now; they are chopping it down. One breaks a large hole in the door, and Legolas fires an arrow through it; we all hear one of the creatures shriek. Aragorn follows suit and both are soon firing again and again until the door suddenly breaks down and the Orcs pour in. Arrows are shot in every direction, swords fly and axes are waved about.

This is it; kill or be killed.

Slitting an Orcs throat then spinning around to dodged numerous attacks, I see Gandalf run into the battle, staff in one hand, sword in the other. All four of the Hobbits follow him and I can't help but feel proud of them, the brave little souls. Killing another few Orcs trying to surround me, I look up and see the Cave-Troll being dragged in by a chain around its neck, roaring as Legolas shoots an arrow at it's shoulder. The Troll takes a step forward and throws down its club at us. Irritable monster!

I suddenly find myself being surrounded yet again. Don't these foul beasts have anything better to do than pick on me? Quickly killing the two nearest me, I look around me. None of the others are free to lend a hand so I'm on my own. Actually, Legolas seems to have disappeared rather conviently. Another Orc and his friend, a nice little Goblin, charge at me. The Goblin shoots an arrow, which I deflected with my swords, then kicked the Orc before he can run me through. I force the bow from the Goblin's hands before cutting them off. While he cowers in pain, I kick the Orc and spin to behead him. Seeing an opportunity, I run away and up a broken pillar to get to higher ground on a ledge but two more of the enemy follow.

Heights are really no problem for me, though fighting in hand-to-hand combat like this is new.

Working up here, slaughtering whatever comes at me is just fine. Great advantage and an even better view of the battle below if someone needs help. Killing about my thirtieth Orc and twentith Goblin easily, I tense up as I feel and enemy on my back—literally. Whipping around to slit the throat of whatever it is, I see Legolas about to do the same to me. So this was where he went? Clever Elf. Realizing that we were about to kill each other, we lower our weapons with a sigh and go back to killing what moved before us.

But the Troll must have had other plans because it saw us. It throws the chain from its neck, along with the club, straight at us. We duck it just as it lodges itself in the ancient wall. We quickly moved away from it, myself climbing over it to join Legolas. The Troll pulls it out of the wall just as I step over it causing me to trip and land in Legolas' arms. Surprisingly, he doesn't mind but we have no time to exchange words as the Troll tries to hit us again, but thankfully missed for the second time. When it threw it a third time, it wrapped itself around the pillar. What a stupid beast! If only _all _our foes could be this dense!

As it struggles to regain control of its chain, Legolas grabs it, pulls it tighter around the pillar. What is he doing? Why is he running across the chain? What in the name of Valar could possibly be thinking? He stops to stand on the Troll's shoulders; oh, I understand now. Legolas shoots two arrows into the top of the beast's head. It snarls in pain as the arrows instantly break with a snap on contact.

It flails its arms around, trying to find Legolas but, before it could catch him, the ellon turns around and jumps off, firing another arrow at its head. Legolas motions for me to jump down; he plans to catch me! I roll my eyes at his chivalry; I don't want his help nor need it. So, in light of that, I run onto the middle of the chain and jumped safely onto the ground over Legolas' head. He looks behind himself at me and I just smiled at him in triumph, but he gives me a look that clearly says, "I-was-only-trying-to-help."

I sprint off in the opposite direction to kill some more as the others tried to take down the Troll. In my opinion, get the small minions out the way first, then go for the big problem. Maybe not the smartest solution, but it's how I work and it makes things easier in the long wrong. If the little things are gone, than you're free to kill the bigger things without worry of the little things sneaking up on you.

Slitting three throats in a row, I spin to see Sam hitting Orcs with his frying pan. I can't help but chuckle; brave little Hobbit! Sure, he isn't killing anything, but at least he's knocking out every enemy that comes near him. Whatever helps!

I faintly hear someone shout for Aragorn and Frodo, but I am too swept up in the heat of the battle. Gandlaf is close to me and he is doing surprisingly well for his old age. I turn around after kicking and stabbing a bunch of the enemy over the tomb and into pillars. That is when I see it: the Troll raises a large trident and stabs Frodo!

"Frodo!" I cry and fight my way over to him.

Hearing Frodo's groan of pain, I notice Merry and Pippin share a scared look on their face. They look at each with a plan formed in their devious little minds, and are suddenly flying from the ledge and onto the Troll's head. They no longer have fear in their eyes as they start to stab it with the swords they said Aragorn gave them. The Troll roars furiously. I see Gandalf staring at Frodo, eye's wide with fear as Sam runs around the pillar. He didn't know what had happened, until now. I kill the beasts that try to come between Gandalf, Frodo and I. The Istar looks as though he will break down into tears. I was right: the two were very close.

This isn't right. It isn't fair! Why did he have to die! He was so young and didn't deserve it! Frodo should be alive and safe in his home in the Shire! Why! I look around me and see the others fighting with renewed fire. They feel the same as I, and spare no one that crosses their path. No one will be spared this day – no one.

I see the Troll wave around and roar until it finally reaches behind itself, grabbinh Merry. The Hobbit screams as it holds him at eye length. I sheath my short swords and grab a nearby spear and throw it at the beast's head just as Gimli runs over, hitting the Troll over and over again with his ax. The monster turns around, harshly dropping Merry, and Gandalf soon join Gimli in stabbing the Troll. I pick up another spear and, after killing the Orcs that come close, I throw it at the monster again. The steel tip broke on contact, this time. Damn!

The beast knocks Gimli down, and Boromir begins to stab at its hands while I snap an Orc's neck, stealing its spear. I charge and run the Troll through, grinding and twisting the spear further into its side. Whilst I do this, Legolas moves to become face-to-face with the Troll and shoots its face after Pippin has stabbed its neck. The Troll roars weakly and staggers for a moment, forcing everyone to back away. The creature finally drops dead, sending Pippin flying off it's back and landing behind everyone.

"Frodo!" I gasp, first to break the silence, remembering that he'd been hurt.

We run over to where the Ring-bearer has fallen, and Gandalf leans on a pillar, winded. Aragorn crawls over to Frodo's body, even though he is injured; the Hobbit is our first priority. Aragorn is obviously struggling so I walk over and pull him up, helping him walk over to Frodo. Sam soon joins us on the opposite side of his best friend, completely terrified.

"Oh, no," Aragorn sighes heavily, closing his eyes, as he touches Frodo's lifeless body. But the Hobbit suddenly groans and Aragorn turns his body over. He's alive! Frodo is alive! Sam's eye's, like the rest of ours, nearly popped out of their sockets from the sheer happiness that Frodo lives. Aragorn moves to pull the trident from Frodo's gut while Sam babbles happily.

"I'm all right," Frodo tells us, panting heavily with a hand on his chest. "I'm not hurt."

"You should be dead," Aragorn states, still in shock. "That spear would have skewered a wild boar."

"I think there's more to this Hobbit than meets the eye," Gandalf says slyly and steps froward. Frodo looks down and opens his ripped shirt to reveal underarmor.

"Mithril!" Gimli gasps in awe. Frodo has a mithril tunic? Amazing! How did he come by it? "You are full of surprises, Master Baggins!" A distant shrieking suddenly comes to our ears from above. The shadows of more leigons are what we see, coming closer and closer. It's endless! They never die and their numbers never falter!

"To the Bridge of Khazad-dûm!" Gandalf shouts and we need nothing more to motivate us into a sprint.

We rush out of the tomb and through the maze of tall stone pillars, Gandalf leading the way with his staff's light, sword still in hand. I stop when I see Sam and Frodo are missing. Turning around I see they stopped to look behind us. Running back to them, I grasped their shoulder tightly, trying to pull them, urging them to move but they are in total fear. Thousands of Orcs and Gobins are on our tail.

P.S.: Five pages total.


	14. The Bridge of KhazadDûm

_**Disclaimer: **_I don't own _The Lord of the Rings _or any of its characters. I only own Leûra, Aearion, Undûme, Cassiopeia, Balanidhren, Aefaradien and any other original characters – so no stealing. However, I don't own Cuiviénen. That place belongs to J. R. R. Tolkien, but the stories of it in Chapter 1 and 2 are all mine.

**Chapter 14: The Bridge of Khazad-Dûm**

As we run like there is no tomorrow, which seems like a good possibility, even more Goblins close in around us. They come from everywhere, even from the cracks of the walls! How this place became so infested I can only imagine as we turn corner after corner. I try not to watch, horrified, as Goblins climb down from the ceiling, snaking around the pillars. We stop after a moment and I am thankful for the break. My legs burn and ache, screaming for rest. I've never ran so fast or hard in my life! But why have we stopped?

Then I see it: we're surrounded. Huddled close together, our weapons out and ready, Gandalf's light is dwindling in the dark of the enemy.

"How are we to get out of this?" Boromir asks eyeing each and every Goblin near him.

"Have faith, Boromir," I tell him with a sideways glance. "Pray, if it suits you." He glares at me for a moment before releasing a low growl. He still doesn't trust me, approved by Gandalf and Elrond or not, he dosen't trust me one bit. Not that I can blame him; have I given him any clear reason to?

A distant growling, almost a low rumbling, echoes through the cavern and a bright light shines through the pillars. If every fiber of my being were not telling me to be afraid, I would have thought the luminous glow beautiful and enchanting. The growl comes again, much louder this time. Without any warning or reason, the Goblins scatter. The others, like myself, are very confused by this sudden act and don't understand until the light grows closer to us. I see Legolas raise his bow up with an arrow notched, but lowers it immediately. Is that fear in his eyes? Had he stretched his sight, and was afraid of what he saw? Just as I'm about to do the same, Boromir's annoying voice interupts my plan of action.

"What is this new devilry?" Boromir asks just above a whisper.

We look to Gandalf who had his eyes closed, deep in thought. When he opens them, he sees the light coming closer to us. It is clear he knows what is coming towards us, and that he has a plan of his own. All of us soon find ourselves frozen with fear at the unseen enemy, waiting for Gandalf to respond.

"A Balrog," Gandalf answers, eyes transfixed on the light shining through the aisles. "A demon of the ancient world. This foe is beyond any of you. Run!" That is all we need, and we take off in the opposite direction of glow.

I look back and see that the light continues to come, faster and brighter, as we reach an archway. Aragorn, who I realize is our unnamed second-in-command, orders us to move quickly as we pass through the arch, reaching a stairwell. Boromir, at some point, got hold of a torch and lit the way for us through the long tunnel. I don't know what happened next. All I know is that I must run or die; the right choice is obvious.

I'm ushering the Hobbits in front of me for their own safety. Little did I know that we would soon stop running—rather abruptly, too. I pull Merry and Pippin back before they fall over the sides to their deaths. Both nod their thanks as we look over the edge and see no bottom. I look over the Hobbits and see Legolas and Boromir on the ground. I'm puzzled until I look in front of them: the stairs. We've run out of stairs!

What else can go wrong?

Aragorn and Gandalf soon catch up to us, and we take another path of steps to the side. Running downward, I hear the growls grow louder and echo through all around. The Balrog is closer than any of us care for, but nothing can be done. Boromir and Legolas, still leading the way, stop us when we come across yet another gap. Will we ever catch a break? Or does the Valar enjoy making us jump through endless hoops for its amusement, to torment us? After a quick, barely noticable examination, I watch Legolas jump the gap and lande safely on the other side. He turns around and faces the rest of us, assuring us it was safe.

"No time like the present," I mumble before jumping across myself, right into Legolas' arms. Moving quickly though, I push myself from him and look towards the others. The Hobbits and Gimli look more hesitant than the others, but Legolas and I stand there, waiting to catch the others as the walls beyond them began to crack under pressure.

"Gandalf!" Legolas calls to the old man, who jumps across with ease, and the two of us catch him.

Arrows begin to fly at us from every corner of the cave. We certainly aren't in the best position to be under attack, but can you blame the enemy? We're trapped on a broken bridge, out in the open, no escape and a Balrog on our tails. What would any creature of darkness do? Legolas, being a clever and quick thinking Elf I realize him to be, decides to use his bow and kill the Goblins in darker corners while he can.

"Merry! Pippin!" Boromir grabs the two and jumps across with them under his arms, causing another piece of the stairwell to break off. Legolas and I catch them of course; that seems to be our duty for the moment: catch our companions and not get killed.

"Sam!" Aragorn grabs the frightened gardener and throws him to the other side where Boromir catches him, desperately trying not to fall off.

"Nobody tosses a Dwarf!" Gimli shouts with a hand to Aragorn. He gives a war cry and jumps across the gap. He would have fallen had Legolas not leaned forward and grabbed him. "Not the beard!" Legolas looks as though he would laugh had the situation not been so dire.

I see Aragorn shoot off arrows, Legolas joining him, as I pull Gimli to safety. I move Gimli behind me to where Gandalf, Boromir and the three Hobbits stand but, as soon as I turned to wave Frodo to jump, a sharp pain ran through my arm. I shout with anguish and backed away from the others and clutch my arm tightly. I look down and see an arrow protruding through it.

My breath shakes as blood spills onto my hands. The arrow hit directly through my left arm just below my wrist. My blood pulses and pumps through to keep a balance within but it isn't working, as I feel queasy and dizzy. Unfortunately for my attacker, I see them die and fall into the chasm with an arrow through its head.

"It's gone through!" Gandalf observes and I can't help but glare at him coldly. How can I _not_ notice an arrow sticking out through my arm? "Go down the path and wait! The walls will shield you!"

"No! You need help to get Aragorn and Frodo!" I protest angrily, groaning in pain as I try to stop the bleeding in my arm. I know better than this! I'm severely injured and yet, here I am, trying to cause more injury to myself. Why? Even I don't understand.

"Do not think to argue with me, Lady Ithilelen!" he snarls and seems to become darker. For the first time ever, I'm afraid of the sweet Istar before me.

With a heavy sigh, I turn and run down the stairs as ordered and dodge arrows as best I can. I hate running away like some child; it makes me feel weak. That's the last thing I need in this hell. My blood trails behind me as I run to a wall which will shield me from the arrows. I lean back, squeeze my arm tightly and wince in pain. I hope that Frodo and Aragorn make it across in time. If not, then this whole journey will have been in vain. Taking in deep, shaking breaths, I hit my head against the wall behind me. My eyes are closed tight to keep the tears threatening to fall down my dirty face.

I wish Aearion was with me. _He_ should be here, _not _me! I'm not fit to do this! He knows that! He's the one that knew Elrond! He's the one that knew the dangers I would face! He's the better fighter! He should be here! _He _should be! Why did he do this to me? Why? I swear, by all that is good and holy, I will _kill_ him when I return home! Damn you, Aearion! How could you do this to me?

"Suilad, gwathel,_" Aearion says with a small smile, stepping into the light._

"Iston le?_" I ask sarcastically, eyeing him with a childish gleam. I've missed him so much over these chaotic months._

"Sut naa lle?_" he asks, voice filled with concern, as he steps up to me. I look around and see that we are on the balcony of my bedchambers that look over the city. No longer am I in my tunic and breeches but the only dress I own, meant for the most formal of occasions, spilling over my arms and to the floor. Aearion is in his formal clothing as well. Everything seems so peaceful and calm. If only is were real._

"_I am…afraid. What happens if I fail? What happens if Sauron regains power? Help me, gwanur!" He shakes his head at my hesitance, just as would when I was a small child._

"Tampa tanya! Avo 'osto! Uuma ma' ten' rashwe; ta tuluva a' lle._" Is that supposed to comfort me? "_Garo estel,_" he hums, caressing my cheek._

"_How can I when I am without you? You, who is stronger and better than I? _Im uben, Aearion. Im fael iell._" Now I sound like a child that has lost their favorite toy. He must think me silly and dumb, must be ashamed. I feel as though I will cry onto the heads of the unsuspecting people far below me._

"Lle naa belegohtar, Leûra,_" he protests with his hands on my shoulders, forcing me to look at him. "I gave you this mission, now complete it," he adds with a small smile, pushing my chin up. _

"_I can't! I'm NOT strong enough!" _

"Cormlle naa tanya tel'raa!_ Open your heart and let it guide you!" I can't help but wonder what he means by that. Aearion has never told me to follow my heart and such; he tells me to follow my instincts. What's gotten into him?_

"Aranno, hodoer,_" I apologize with the utmost respect before growing somber. "When will we see each other again?"_

"_I do not know, but know that we will." There's that smile again; so full of hope and confidence, both of which I lacked until now. _

"Rim hennaid, gwanur. Belain na le._"_

"Aa' menealle nauva calen ar' malta, astalder._"_

My dream. Or was it a dream? Was Aearion speaking to me through his mind whilst Iwas passed out? Is that even possible? The only one I know to have that power is the Lady of the Wood. And Naneth, of course, according to Aearion. But neither of us inherited her power…or did he? Oh, I'm not certain of anything anymore.

I look down at my arm and see my clothes soaked with blood. The floor even has a small puddle. The pain has lessened but I can still feel it pulsate. To my right, I see the others come into view looking extremely tired and worn. They run pass me, and I force myself off the wall to join them. All but Aragorn, who helps me steady myself as I stumble, pass me as Gandalf soon rounds the bend. He looks more tired than I feel.

"We have to remove this soon," Aragorn explains as he looks at the arrow in my unsteady arm. "If we don't, then—"

"I know! Just keep moving!" I order and push him onward and, thankfully, he complies and runs up to Legolas.

After whispering something to the Elf, he runs to the others and Legolas runs to me. Aragorn told him to come back for me? I should be mad that he's hurt my pride so, but I'm staggering and losing even more blood. I can barely walk much less argue. The caves began to rumble and dust shakes from the ceiling, as Legolas throws my good arm around his shoulder and helps me run.

"Over the bridge! Fly!" Gandalf orders as flames rise behind us.

All of us run across the narrow bridge to safety and it isn't until we are up the stairs, near our escape, when we notice Gandalf isn't with us. Looking down, we see the Istar on the bridge, back to us, facing the flames as the Balrog shows it's ugly face. A demon of fire, ash and smoke; truly more frightening than the Kraken. It roars at him and Gandalf runs towards the others but the monster does the same.

"You cannot pass!" he shouts at the Balrog, now in front of him.

"Gandalf!" Frodo shouts, trying to escape Boromir's grip. Like the little Hobbit, we all watch in fear and wonder as the Balrog raises its flames and roars.

"I am a servant of the Secret Fire, Wielder of the Flame of Anor. The dark fire will not avail you, Flame of Udûn!" The monster pulls out a brimstone sword and Gandalf holds up his staff, which continues to glow its radiant white light. The Balrog thrashes its sword down to strike Gandalf, but his staff's light throws it back. Amazing, he is more powerful than I thought. "Go back to the Shadow," he hisses as the Balrog steps onto the bridge. I can clearly see the bridge cracking as Gandalf takes a step back. The beast now wields a fiery whip. "YOU! SHALL NOT! PASS!"

He smashes his staff into the bridge, the white light glowing brighter as the Balrog steps again. The bridge suddenly begins to break under its feet! I sigh in relief as the monster falls into darkness and Gandalf turns to face us. Some of us, including myself, are smiling at his success. I have never seen magic first hand, but it is truly a sight to behold! Gandalf truly is the greatest Istar there is.

He begins a slow, winded trek towards us, to safety, when a whip crack is heard. We watch him suddenly fall to the ground and pulled to the broken edge of the bridge. His staff and sword have been abandoned as he clings to the stone. They are too far out of reach to help him now. Frodo and the other Hobbits try to run to him, but their giant companions restrain them.

"Gandalf!" Frodo cries as Boromir struggles to keep him back. Why are the men holding them back? Why! We can still save Gandalf? Why doesn't Aragorn do something! Why aren't _I _doing something!

"Fly, you fools," Gandalf tells us before letting go of the ledge.

Frodo screams in anguish as he watches his dearest friend fall to his death. He pulls against Boromir's arms, tears coming to his eyes. Aragorn stands there in complete shock, looking at the ledge where Gandalf once was. Like him, I stare at the ledge in shock—completely frozen. I thought Gandalf was indestructible, that his death was impossible. I try to free myself from Legolas, but he pulls me away and into the light of the sun.

Legolas sets me down and I can't do anything but lower my head solemnly, crying silently as for no one to hear me. Mixed with my tears, my blood stains the rocks. All four Hobbits sit down and cry uncontrollably. I see Merry craddle Pippin's head in his lap as the youngest Hobbit grips and pulls at his friend's pants. Sam sits down next to me and covered his eyes like I had and cries. His shoulders shake furiously as he weeps, and I pull him into a hug. Aearion told me to open my heart, to let it guide me; this is what my heart tells me.

I look up, drying my eyes, and see Legolas looking around sadly as if he is searching for answers or any sign of hope. A puzzled expression is etched on his face as Aragorn simply wipes his sword clean, showing no emotion.

"Legolas, get them up," he orders and, without question, Legolas moves toPippin and Merry.

"Give them a moment, for pity's sake!" Boromir pleads with more sincerity than I thought possible. Perhaps this mortal does have a heart?

"By nightfall, these hills will be swarming with Orcs! We must reach the woods of Lothlórien," Aragorn argued reasonably, sheathing his sword and placing a hand to his friend's shoulder in comfort. "Come, Boromir."

Sam has left my comfort so I turn to my arm. Sighing, steeling myself, I grip the arrow cautiously and begin to pull it out by its head. I scream through clenched teeth. I'm sure everyone is looking at me, but my eyes are clamped shut as I try to pull the arrow from my arm. Someone grabs my arm forcefully, and I look up to see Legolas stopping me. I glare at him with heaving breaths, realizing I'm not strong enough to pull it out myself.

Shockingly enough, he kneels down and grips the arrow. He looks at me for a moment, telling me what he does next will hurt. I scream through cleenched teeth as he twists and pulls out the arrow. It feels as though someone is slowly branding me with hot coals from a Drake's breath, all while stabbing me repeatedly with a sword. I wipe my eyes and clasp my freely flowing bloodied arm as he tears a piece of fabric from a blanket I had with me.

"_Diola lle,_ Legolas," I say quietly as he wraps up my arm tightly, causing me to wince in pain. "You've done more than your fair share to help me. I owe you my life."

"You owe me nothing. Being alive and safe, that is enough." I stare at him for a moment in confusion as he finishes. "We cannot lose another." I nod shortly and lower my head to stare at her bloody arm.

"Legolas, Gimli, get them up. On your feet, Sam." Aragorn pulls the plump Hobbit next to me to his feet, and I join him shortly after. We begin the slow, depressing trek to Lothlórien.

Aragorn begins to call for Frodo, scanning the mountains for him. Great, don't tell me we've lost him as well? This can't be happening! We look up and see Frodo though, safe and sound, walking from us along a small creek. At hearing Aragorn's calls to him though, he slowly turns around and looks at the rest of us sadly, a lone tear falling from his wide eyes. The poor Hobbit has the fate of the world on his shoulders. He didn't deserve to see Gandalf die.

Gandalf didn't deserve to die.

**Translations:**

Iston le?: Do I know you?

Sut naa lle?: How are you?

Tampa tanya! Avo 'osto! Uuma ma' ten' rashwe; ta tuluva a' lle: Stop that! Fear not! Don't look for trouble; it will come to you

Garo estel: Have hope

Im uben. Im fael iell: I am nothing. I'm just a girl

Lle naa belegohtar: You are a mighty warrior

Cormlle naa tanya tel'raa: Your heart is that of the lion

Aranno, hodoer: I'm sorry, wise one.

Rim hennaid, gwanur. Belain na le: Many thanks, brother. The Valar be with you.

Aa' menealle nauva calen ar' malta, astalder: May your ways be green and golden, valiant one

Diola lle: Thank you

P.S.: Seven pages total.


	15. Lothlórien

_**Disclaimer: **_I don't own _The Lord of the Rings _or any of its characters. I only own Leûra, Aearion, Undûme, Cassiopeia, Balanidhren, Aefaradien and any other original characters – so no stealing. However, I don't own Cuiviénen. That place belongs to J. R. R. Tolkien, but the stories of it in Chapter 1 and 2 are all mine.

**Chapter 15: Lothlórien**

As Aragorn runs across a shallow creek to look ahead, Legolas leads the rest of us. We move across the plains slowly, not stopping or talking. Silence is eminent as no one even dares to open their mouth. Gandalf's death weighs heavily on us. He is…_was_ our leader, and he sacrificed himself for us. Pippin leans on Merry and cries every now and then, as do his fellow Halflings. But they have to stay strong; they have to keep moving. If they don't, they face death. A few hours later, we run into the shelter of a nearby wood to escape the Orcs that track us.

"Boromir," I call quietly walking up next to him. "I never got a chance to thank you."

"For what?" he asks gruffly, shifting his shield on his back.

"For looking after me, and the Halflings." Legolas and Aragorn are listening with one ear, this I know, to Boromir and I behind them. "I know we are a burden you wish not to bear, but thank you." He nods, noting on the sincereity in my voice as I try to maintain my warrior composure. Maybe this is a peace offering of some kind? The end of my coaxing of him, and the start of a friendship? Doubtful, but a start.

"You're welcome, milady," he replies and moves faster to join Aragorn as I fall back next to the Hobbits. I'm not sure if Boromir truly accepts my apology. Even though I can't stand the man, I hope he has.

"Shh! Stay close, young Hobbits," Gimli warns, ax gripped firmly in his hands. "They say that a great sorceress lives in these woods. An Elf-witch of terrible power." I look back at the Dwarf and roll my eyes. To avoid more of his fearful yammering, I quicken my pace and move up next to Legolas, who seems to be just as annoyed and tired of Gimli's talk. "All who look upon her fall under her spell…"

_Aranel Ithilelen…_

"…And are never seen again." The Dwarf finishes, eyeing the woods around him careful. The Hobbits soon do the same, but I'm more focused on the voice in my head. Who or what was that?

_You came to speak with me, did you not? You and Frodo bring great darkness here…_

"Well, there's one Dwarf she won't ensnare so easily. I have the eyes of a hawk and the ears of a fox—oh!" he gasps sharply as he looks ahead to see an arrow pointed directly between his eyes. I snap out of my thoughts and look around to see Elves, armed to kill, surrounding us. Legolas quickly pulls out his bow and aims at the intruders.

"The Dwarf breathes so loud, we could have shot him in the dark," a fair-haired ellon speaks calmly. Gimli growls at the insult as Aragorn steps up to speak to the Elf. "We seldom use any tongue but our own; for we dwell now in the heart of the forest, and do not willingly have dealings with other folk…but there are some of us still who go abroad for the gathering of news and the watching of our enemies, and they speak the languages of other lands. I am one. Haldir is my name. My brothers, Rumil and Orophin, speak little of your tongue," he adds, pointing to the two Elves behind him who still have their bows raised towards us.

"_Haldir o Lórien. Henion aníron, boe ammen i dulu lîn,_" Aragorn says, almost with a desperate tone, to Haldir. "_Boe ammen veriad lîn._"

"Aragorn, these woods are perilous! We should go back!" Gimli argues, careful not to move into the arrow before him.

"You have entered the realm of the Lady of the Wood," Haldir states, his voice as smooth as ice. "You_ cannot _go back." He turns from Aragorn and the surrounding Elves lower their bows, following Haldir with the rest of us close in step.

Haldir, knowing that we are being tracked by Orcs, guides us to two seperate talans. He ordered that the Hobbits and myself stay with them, since they do not seem to fear us, while the others stay in one in the next tree. I know that they are my kin, but if they even look at the Hobbits the wrong way, I will kill them. He proceeds to order Legolas to answer to them for us, and call if anything is amiss. Haldir adds to keep an eye on Gimli, still wary of him. Gimli would have defended his honor, but Haldir has been kind enough to protect us from the enemy that tracks us through the night.

**Translations:**

Aranel: Princess

Haldir o Lórien. Henion aníron, boe ammen i dulu lîn: Haldir of Lórien. We come here for help.

Boe ammen veriad lîn: We need your medicine and protection.

P.S.: Two pages total.


	16. Nightly Dealings

_**Disclaimer: **_I don't own _The Lord of the Rings _or any of its characters. I only own Leûra, Aearion, Undûme, Cassiopeia, Balanidhren, Aefaradien and any other original characters – so no stealing. However, I don't own Cuiviénen. That place belongs to J. R. R. Tolkien, but the stories of it in Chapter 1 and 2 are all mine.

**Chapter 16: Nightly Dealings**

That night, we stand on a platform in the rustling foliage. I see the others and I help the Hobbits over to them. One by one, we walk towards our companions, wary of the Elves around us. I see Frodo looking around with sad eyes. He mourns Gandalf even still; I look to the others and see them either in awe or quiet and thoughtful. They are careful and mindful of their actions here, and that is most wise to be sure. I stop and tell the Halflings to stay close together by a tree trunk as I walk towards Aragorn. Legolas steps in my path though, stopping me and, just as I am about to question him I understand: Haldir is coming towards us.

"_Mae govannen, Legolas Thranduilion,_" he greets with a hand to Legolas' arm.

"_Govannas vîn gwennen le, Haldir o Lórien,_" Legolas replies with a small nod, as if to bow to Haldir in respect. Haldir acknowledges this and glances at Aragorn and myself.

"_A, Aragorn in Dúnedain istannen le ammen._" Aragorn nods as well, greeting Haldir. The Marchwarden's gaze turns to me now. He can plainly see I am of his kind, but he does not recognize me.

"_Haldir, mae govannen Leûra Ithilelen o Cuiviénen, gothwin ar turinqui o amlug,_" Legolas says with a small smile to me, and I bow my head in respect to Haldir. He looks shocked, to say the least, something I'm not tired of seeing. The look on people's faces when they learn of who I am is always amusing. The shock fades though, and Haldir bows in respect to me.

"So much for the legendary courtesy of the Elves!" Gimli grumbles loudly so all could hear. "Speak words we can all understand!"

"We have not had _dealings_ with the Dwarves since the Dark Days," Haldir comments, hate lining his voice as he stares down at Gimli.

"And you know what this Dwarf says to that? _Ishkhaqwi ai durugnul!_" he sneers coldly. I'm not sure what he said, but it must have been an insult since Aragorn grabs Gimli and tells him that was not so courteous.

"You bring great evil with you," Haldir says, glancing at a very tired Frodo, who stands behind Sam, the ever-protective gardener. I notice that both look up at him, their sorrow dripping from them, as Haldir looks back at Aragorn. "You can go no further." He turns and walks away, stunning all of us. Sam and Pippin turn to look at Frodo, who looks slightly uncomfortable. Aragorn will not have this though and follows Haldir.

"_Boe ammen veriad lîn. Andelu i ven!_" Aragorn argues angrily with the Marchwarden.

The at least could have gone some place where we were not within hearing range. I do not want to hear this! I'm sure the Hobbits don't want to hear arguing in a language they cannot understand either! How can they turn us away after helping us earlier this night?

"_Merin le telim,_" he continues calmly after Haldir whispers back so softly that neither I nor Legolas hear him. Haldir answers quietly again so that only Aragorn can hear his words. Why does he do that? What does he have to hide? "_Henio, aníron boe ammen i dulu lîn!_"

I can listen to this fighting no longer so I look to Legolas. His immortal eyes show the same puzzlement as mine. Our gaze lingers on one another for a moment before he turns to look at Frodo. The Ring bearer sees Legolas look at him, and looks away uncomfortably. Our eyes then turn to Sam who looks away, a hurt expression in his eyes. I see Pippin and Merry do likewise, huddling close together.

"We must do something!" I whisper to him so only he can hear. "They fear them…and us." Legolas looks back at the Halflings, and he sees I am right as Gimli glances at Frodo. "You know Haldir. Speak with him!" I say, hating the desperateness in my voice.

"I cannot," he responds solemnly, and I stare at him as though he's a traitor. "That task stands for Estel, and him alone." I take a step back from him and wonder what he means. He looks to Aragorn, who continues to argue loudly with Haldir. It's then I realize that Aragorn is Estel; he is "hope".

"_Andelu i ven,_" Aragorn pleads and I hear Boromir speak to Frodo out of one ear.

He tells him that Gandalf's death was not in vain, that he wouldn't have Frodo give up hope. He tells him that he carries a heavy burden already; he tells him not to carry the weight of the dead as well. I look back to see Frodo, sitting against a tree now, pondering the Gondorian's words. I was going to go over to speak with him when Haldir appears, looking less than happy.

"You will follow me," he states sternly. I guess Aragorn's words finally sunk in.

A caravan of Elves led us along a ridge, through the Golden Woods. I am between Legolas and Boromir, and I see the Gondorian glance at Frodo behind him. We soon come to the end of the high ridge and look out into the light of the rising sun. A great glade of trees rises above us, and Haldir announces that we look on Caras Galadhon—the heart of Elvendom on Middle-earth, the realm of the Lord Celeborn and Galadriel, Lady of Light.

**Translations:**

Mae govannen, Legolas Thranduilion: Welcome Legolas, son of Thranduil

Govannas vîn gwennen le, Haldir o Lórien: Our Fellowship stands in your debt, Haldir of Lórien

A, Aragorn in Dúnedain. Istannen le ammen: Oh, Aragorn of the Dúnedain. You are known to us.

Mae govannen Leûra Ithilelen o Cuiviénen, gothwin ar turinqui o amlug: Welcome, Leûra Moonstar of Cuiviénen, female warrior and princess of dragons

Ishkhaqwi ai durugnul: I spit upon your grave

Boe ammen veriad lîn. Andelu i ven: We need your protection. The road is fell

Merin le telim: I wish we may come with you

Henio, aníron boe ammen i dulu lîn: Please, understand, we need your support

Andelu i ven: The road is very dangerous

P.S.: Three pages total.


	17. Caras Galadhon

_**Disclaimer: **_I don't own _The Lord of the Rings _or any of its characters. I only own Leûra, Aearion, Undûme, Cassiopeia, Balanidhren, Aefaradien and any other original characters – so no stealing. However, I don't own Cuiviénen. That place belongs to J. R. R. Tolkien, but the stories of it in Chapter 1 and 2 are all mine.

**Chapter 17: Caras Galadhon**

The next morning, Haldir tells us we must go to the Lord and Lady of Lothlórien. He says us the Lady is waiting. After we cross a tightrope bridge into the Naith of Lórien, there is a debate about Gimli's presence due to ancient enmity between Elves and Dwarves. Haldir says Gimli should walk blindfolded, presumably so he does not learn about Lothlórien's location. The debate is resolved when Aragorn says that all the Fellowship shall proceed blindfolded.

My trust in the Man is waning, as it is for these Elves.

Once the Elves feel secure, I imaine, we walk blind through the woods. I know that I am near the front with the Hobbits and Haldir, so I hear him speak with the Halflings as we walk, providing the perspective of the Elves of Lórien on the state of Middle-Earth. At noon the next day, a message comes from Galadriel that the Fellowship is to walk free. Thank Valar for that because I cannot walk with this blindfold much longer! I have resisted the urge to rip it off and throw it at these Elves' feet for too long.

"Look on us now with friendly eyes. Look and be glad," I hear Haldir say, "for you are the first Dwarf to behold the trees of the Naith of Lórien since Durin's day." My blindfold is removed and I look around to make sure the Hobbits are safe before seeing the others.

I am told we are at the hill of Cerin Amroth in the heart of Lothlórien, and we spend some time enjoying its beauty. Haldir encourages both Frodo and Sam to climb the hill of Cerin Amroth and ascend a flet, a platform inside a tree. But we mustn't linger, we must reach the Lord and Lady soon. It is what Gandalf would have wanted, not these pestering setbacks.

As we finally walk into Caras Galadhon, under the cover of silver glowing trees, I am told that the Lord and Lady jointly rule the city. It is nice to see some equality in this world, for it is the first time I ever have. Perhaps there is hope for this world after all?

The mountainous trees enthrall all of us. They stand tall, their leaves becoming a blanket from the sky and sunlight; stairwells wrapped around the trunks delicately. As we climb the steps, we rise higher and higher into the realm of the Lady. Everything seems to have an etherial glow of silver and white; it makes everything look so pure. When we finally stop, we stand in front of what looks like a barely visible glowing castle. The Lord and Lady of the realm decsended a set of stairs majestically and Aragorn bows his head, the rest of us following his example, as we walk toward them.

"The Enemy knows you have entered here. What hope you had in secrecy is now gone. Nine there are here, yet ten there were set out from Rivendell," Lord Celeborn announces with an air of regality. He puts Haldir on the spot, as he has been quiet during our audience. Legolas covered for Haldir though, informing Celeborn that we have not spoken to Haldir of our deeds or our purpose. "Tell me, where is Gandalf, for I much desire to speak with him? I can no longer see him from afar." I notice the Lady stare at Aragorn contently for a moment before her eyes go wide.

"Gandalf the Grey did not pass the borders of this land. He has fallen into Shadow," she gasps as her eyes looked over all of us, as if reading us. Aragorn nods slightly as the rest of us hang our heads. Gandalf's memory lingers with us as Celeborn turns to his wife.

"He was taken by both Shadow and Flame: a Balrog of Morgoth. For we went needlessly into the net of Moria," Legolas informs them as Gimli's head hangs even lower, his own sadness and guilt consuming him.

"Needless were none of the deeds of Gandalf in life. We do not yet know his whole purpose," Galadriel tells us wisely as her gaze turns to Gimli, her words making him look up at her. "Do not let the great emptiness of Khazad-dûm fill your heart, Gimli, son of Glóin, for the world has grown full of peril. And, in all lands, love is now mingled with grief." Boromir turns his pained face to the Lady, blinking and swallowing hard. I see the Lady stare back but Boromir looks away, weeping silently.

"What now becomes of this Fellowship?" Celeborn asks, looking down on each of us. "Without Gandalf, hope is lost."

"The quest stands upon the edge of a knife. Stray but a little and it will fail, to the ruin of all," his wife adds. She still looks at Boromir and I notice he whimpers silently. Why, I don't know, but I have a feeling that it is because of the Lady's eyes upon him. He closes his eyes and bows his head respectfully as I follow her gaze to Sam. "Yet hope remains while the company is true. Do not let your hearts be troubled. Go now and rest, for you are weary with sorrow and much toil. Tonight, you will sleep…" Her voice seems to fade out at she looks at Frodo, and I can tell he too hears her voice in his head.

Come here after you have rested, and we shall speak of your home…

Afterwards, once the Lady's voice fades from my head, they leave and we are left with Haldir. He bids us farewell and returns to the Northern Borders, quietly apologizing to me for our earlier treatment. Why he apologizes to just me is probably because I am a woman. Men, Elf or otherwise, are stubborn and foolish at times. Will they ever learn that a woman has the right to fend for herself? That we do not need them at our sides at all times?

P.S.: Three pages total.


	18. Placing Blame

_**Disclaimer: **_I don't own _The Lord of the Rings _or any of its characters. I only own Leûra, Aearion, Undûme, Cassiopeia, Balanidhren, Aefaradien and any other original characters – so no stealing. However, I don't own Cuiviénen. That place belongs to J. R. R. Tolkien, but the stories of it in Chapter 1 and 2 are all mine.

**Chapter 18: Placing Blame**

_A Olorin i yare_

_Mentaner i Numeherui_

_Tirien i Romenori_

_Maiarion i Oiosaila_

_Mana elye etevanne_

_Norie i melanelye?_

The Elves sing in the distance as we scatter about our camp. Merry and Pippin are together, leaning against a tree, while Frodo and Sam are together, the gardener crouching down to make his bed. Aragorn is sharpening his sword as Gimli sleeps peacefully beside him. Boromir sits close by at a tree trunk of his own, seemingly lost in thought.

Even though I'm still wary around Boromir, I'm glad to see that he and Aragorn are no longer on edge with one another. Legolas, for some reason, has changed into a new tunic that matches that of the Elves in Lórien. I watch him from the tree where I sit between Merry and Pippin, burshing their hairs slowly as a mother would a child, as he now carries a long silver vase. For what purpose is unknown to me.

As I observe Legolas, I can feel his and the Hobbits grief dripping from them like dead flesh off the bone. I wish there was something I could say to the little ones, but there are no words. All I can do is hold them, one comforting arm around both, and continue brush their messy hair softly.

"A lament for Gandalf," Legolas announces pensively, listening to the song. I look up at him from between the Hobbits, and listen as well. I rise to my feet and walk past Legolas to go to the railing, listening more closely with my eyes closed tightly to force the tears back.

"What do they say about him?" Merry asks looking up at the somber Elf.

"I have not the heart to tell you. For me, the grief is still too near."

Sam turns to Merry and says that he bets they don't mention his fireworks. He says there should be a verse about them. I turn to see the stout Hobbit rise up and speak in verse, reciting a song he simply makes up off the top of his head. Creative little Hobbit.

"The finest rockets ever seen, they burst in stars of blue and green," he rhymes, looking up at the trees while Gimli snores loudly. "Or after thunder…silver showers…" Aragorn turns, annoyed, and swats the Dwarf, eliciting a grunt. I can't help but stiffle a laugh at how Aragorn can sometimes connect with his inner child. "…Came falling like a…rain of flowers." Sam sighs, squating down next to Frodo, who is smiling at his friend, again. "Oh, that doesn't do them justice by a long road."

Aragorn walks over to a still uncomfortable looking Boromir. As he does this, I move my eyes to the ground and open my mouth to speak, but no words come in Westron. Elvish flows from my mouth and my ears feel as though they have been plugged up, and I can't tell if the others can hear me. Whether or not they can, I don't care. All I want to do right now is mourn my friend, and rip off this bandage on my wound. I had been given medicine to treat it earlier, and it has been healing faster than expected. But Valar does it itch!

"What does she say?" Pippin asks groggily, his curiosity peaked as always, as he stirs from his short nap. Next to Frodo, he took Gandalf's pass the hardest. Why, I still don't know or understand. Maybe it's as simple as that he knew all of the Hobbits? And had a special relationship with all of them? If I could have one wish now, besides to save my people, it would be for Gandalf to be alive.

"She is praying for Gandalf's soul. She's praying that he finds his way back to us," Legolas answers, turning to look at the two Hobbits. "She prays for peace in our hearts."

"I must go," I announce. I was rather abrupt, so I guess that is why Legolas grabbed my arm when I made to go past him. Why is he still holding that vase?

"You cannot go. You must give your wound time to heal," he advises.

"It _has_ healed. I must go and speak to the Lady Galadriel."

"Why?" he asks. I stare at him a moment, torn between wanting to smack him and dump the water from that precious vase of his over his head.

"Why do you worry about me so, Princeling? My affairs are none of your concern! I shall return soon." With that I pull from him and take off into the city. Why must he treat me as if I am a child? Stupid, insipid ellon!

* * *

"_In gwidh ristennin, I fae narchannen I Lach Anor ed ardhon gwannen/Mithrandir, Mithrandir!/A Randir Vithren!/Ú-reniathach i amar galen I reniad lín ne môr/ nuithannen,_" I sing softly, tears falling from my eyes.

I didn't realize how much I missed Gandalf until now. As humans say, you never know what you truly have until it's gone. Damn him! Why did he let go? Either Legolas or myself could have reached him in time. We could have pulled him up, and he'd be with us right now. Yes, he'd been injured beyond belief, but he would be alive. Damn you, Valar! Why! Why him! He was a good man!

"Princess Leûra Ithilelen of Cuiviénen," I hear Galadriel speak softly, behind me. I hadn't heard her approach and gasp at the sight of her, glowing and ethereal. "Do I frighten you?" she asks coyly with a wry smile.

"No, merely startled me, Highness." I catch my breath for the moment before turning serious. "I must speak with you. It is of the gravest importance."

"It is about your father, Undûme." I nod as Galadriel steps closer to me. "You worry for him."

"I do, but my fears run deeper than worry. I believe he has been poisoned by Sauron," I explain then pause. I think about this for a moment before sighing quietly and correcting myself. "Again."

"The _palantír_." I nod again, my worry clearly written in my eyes. "Your fear serves you well, Leûra. I also believe your father has been corrupted by Sauron, for I have seen it. But, you knew that, didn't you? Or you would not have taken the Stone? You bring evil into my home…"

"I took it to try and save him," I argue, only momentarily shocked that she knew I had it but then I remember exactly what she is capable of. She understands; there's no need to elaborate. It's obvious: I took the Stone; he can't use it and, therefore, can't endanger himself anymore than he has. If he does, Aearion will…remedy father's mistakes. "Is there anyway I can save him?" I ask with disdain, not even believing it's possible to save the poor soul now that I think about it.

"You know the way to save him." Galadriel stops in front of me as I sigh, disappointed that my predecessor has nothing else to tell me. I do know what to do! She is the main reason I left my home's safety, and she offers nothing! I hope there is another way besides killing him. "Do you blame yourself for Gandalf's pass to Shadow?" she asks off-handedly; I eye her, completely shocked that she would ask such a thing, even though it's true. But Galadriel smiles and moves on. "The rest of your family fairs well, I hope."

"Yes, they do." I nod sadly. Turning to walk towards the balcony that overlooks the entire Utopia, I tell her, "Aearion prepares to take fathers place as King, though he still has yet to marry."

"He prepares for the coming war," she corrects and I can't help but agree. "And Cassiopeia?" Galadriel doesn't move from her spot, she merely watches me.

"My mother died long ago, you know that." The sorrow and hate is evident in my voice as I lean on the balcony, completely exhausted.

I'm not mad at the Lady, just with her words. I don't understand why she would ask about my mother when she, with all her wisdom and the Mirror, would obviously know the truth. We don't speak again for a short time. Galadriel observes me; I can feel her eyes on my back as mine trail over every inch of the city. I've never seen anything so beautiful in all my years.

"Do your friends know the true reason why you journey with them?" Galadriel's words are so sudden that I turn to look at her in confusion. But there she stands, hands resting in front of her as she stands on the same steps that she'd greeted us on.

"They are _not_ my friends, merely a means to an end," I whisper harshly.

"I see." My eyes turn back to the city as Galadriel slowly walks to my side. "The Prince of Mirkwood looks after you. He is a mystery," she states as I spot a group of Elves walking underneath us. Does she have to know absolutely everything?

"No, he worries about my wound. He cares nothing for me beyond my health," I argue and face Galadriel completely. She doesn't look at me. Oh, this queen is really starting to infuriate me!

"And you? Do you care for him?" Just as I am about to answer, Galadriel cuts me off. "You cannot lie. I know the truth within your heart." I don't answer for a moment, but look into the old elleth's eyes, which are staring at me from their corners.

"He is not unpleasant to my eyes," I admit before quickly adding, "but he means nothing to me."

"A means to an end?" I nod at her mock of me, and Galadriel moves back to the stairwell again. Seeing this as the end of our conversation, finally, I move toward the stairs to go back to the Fellowship. "You carry another burden with you."

"In more ways than one, yes, I do," I answer quietly closing my eyes. While one hand moves to the satchel at my waist and, self-conscientiously, begins to rub it, the other goes to my heart. I'm so cold inside.

"I would learn to trust your companions soon." Galadriel's words hit me like an arrow, and I whip around only to see the Queen's back.

"Why? Has the Mirror shown you something?" Galadriel can obviously hear the fear in my voice, but she doesn't turn to face me or even show a sign that she has heard me. "Tell me!" I order forcefully and Galadriel stops, turning slightly to show the side of her face.

"Go and rest. Your wound still has much healing to do," is all she says and turns, walking away again and leaving me very confused.

"I see," I whisper lowly. "You have the thanks of me and my people," I call after her before walking back down the stairwell to the Hobbits and the others.

Galadriel's words do not leave me though. _Do you blame yourself for Gandalf's pass to Shadow?_ In all honesty, I do. Gandalf, next to Lord Elrond, is my family's oldest friend. He accepted my flaws when I told him of my deeds. He befriended me, no questions asked, and all I could do was let him die! My last words to him were angry and full of hate. I can't help but regret not being able to make amends.

_I would learn to trust your companions soon._ What did she mean? Is something going to happen to me like Gandalf? That question isn't one so easily answered. I'll leave that awnser blank and go rest, as told, but only after I find Gimli and save him from getting an arrow between his eyes.

**Translations:**

A Olorin i yare/Mentaner i Numeherui/Tirien i Romenori/Maiarion i Oiosaila/Mana elye etevanne/Norie i melanelye?: Oh, Olorin, who once was/Sent by the Lords of the West/To guard the lands of the East/Wisest of all Maiar/What drove you to leave/That which you loved?

In gwidh ristennin, I fae narchannen I Lach Anor ed ardhon gwannen/Mithrandir, Mithrandir!/A Randir Vithren!/Ú-reniathach i amar galen I reniad lín ne môr nuithannen: The bonds cut, the spirit broken, the Flame of Anor has left this Word/Mithrandir, Mithrandir!/Oh Pilgrim Grey!/No more you will wander the Orange World, your journey has ended in the darkness

P.S.: Five pages total.


	19. Fading Promises

_**Disclaimer: **_I don't own _The Lord of the Rings _or any of its characters. I only own Leûra, Aearion, Undûme, Cassiopeia, Balanidhren, Aefaradien and any other original characters – so no stealing. However, I don't own Cuiviénen. That place belongs to J. R. R. Tolkien, but the stories of it in Chapter 1 and 2 are all mine.

**Chapter 19: Fading Promises**

The Lady allowed me time to bathe and gave me new clothing. I was surprised when I was handed a stunning silver-blue dress that matched that of the handmaidens. All I needed was a new tunic and pants, and I would have been happy. The maid who gave the dress to me seemed to think I was offended to share the same style of dress with her, and left as quickly as she came. Why, I don't know. I don't understand why she would think that. Yes, I am of royal blood, but my realm has long been forgotten. I may as well be a maid. Great, now I'm a martyr unto myself! How did it get to be like this?

As I walk back to the others, I nod to passing men and women. I feel so uncomfortable in my own skin, and feel as though everyone is staring at me. Aearion would probably have a nice quip for that thought, ever the tease. Why my thoughts drift back to him constantly worries me. My thoughts should be in the here and now, not back there. I often wonder if Aearion and my past will be the death of me!

"You look beautiful," a voice says smoothly from behind me. I finish walking down the steps and turn to see Legolas. I hadn't even heard him approach. What is it with this place that impairs my hearing so?

"Thank you, but I do not feel so," I say solemnly as I walk back to the balcony and look up at the treetops, the lament for Gandalf still lingering in the air.

"Are you well?" he asks, suddenly very concerned. "Your injury—"

"Is fine," I stress with a small smile as he stands on my left. "I think of my home. When I spoke with the Lady…well, I'm not sure I'm needed here anymore."

"I don't understand," he admits with a furrowed brow. "I thought you joined the Fellowship to destroy the Ring. Isn't that what you told me?" I lower my head in guilt, remembering how I told him not to question my motives. He had every reason to, and now he's caught me within my own lie.

"Yes, and I want to help but…" I look around and see Frodo and Sam eating whilst Pippin and Merry, who seem to have clung to me since Moria, spar with Boromir. Aragorn watches the sparring, as he did before, shouting out words of encouragement. Gimli, I can only suspect, is hiding again. "…The truth is that I left my home to warn Lord Elrond of Sauron and to speak with Lady Galadriel, to discover how I could save my people." I look at him and I can't tell whether he's shocked or angry, his face is completely blank, but my mind tells me the worst. I hate how I can never read him! "I know. I lied, and I am truly sorry. If I leave now, I would save all of you the trouble of endangering you further."

"We endanger ourselves willingly, as do you," he states, obviously not letting me off so easily. I look at him for a moment, curious as to what he thinks about. My eyes stray from his though as I see an ellon enter our camp. He moves towards Aragorn, and it is then I regonize him as Haldir, the Marchwarden. "I do not know what other secrets you hold, but I hope you do not let them consume you. You shall fade if you do." I look back at him in shock. I truly don't understand Legolas! One minute, he acts as though he hates me. Then, the next, he's concerned for my well-being.

"You speak as though someone would care if I faded," I retort. He looks completely aghast that I even said that. I can't even stand to look at him now, so I avert my eyes back to the beautiful city. "I made this journey to save my family and my people. For all I know, they are dead now and I am alone. What would it matter if I faded?"

"It would matter a great deal," he says solemnly, causing me to look at him curiously. As I turn to him, I see he's looking straight at me. My breath catches in my throat under his stare. Why does he stare at me so? It feels as though he's penetrating my very soul. Why can I hear my heart quicken? "Sleep well tonight, Leûra," he whispers, turning away from me and to his bedroll.

"Sleep will not come to me this night," I say suddenly, looking back at him. He stops and eyes me curiously with a small smile. He must think I'm joking. "Not even in a talan as quiet as the one given to me."

"Then I shall stay awake and keep you company," he replies, still with that small smile. As I walk over to my own bedroll, next to him, I smile and lay down.

"What are you two talking about?" Pippin asks as he comes over to us, curious as ever. He says that Aragorn told him and Merry to rest for the night, and then he left with Haldir to find Gimli. Frodo and Sam are already asleep it seems, as is Boromir. "I thought we were supposed to be going to sleep?"

"Sleep seems to be a problem for all of us, Pippin," Legolas states. "Care to join us?"

"Sure!" he exclaims excitedly and runs off. When he returns, he has his bedroll under one arm and Merry's hand under the other. Poor Merry is being dragged over to us; he looked as though he would kill Pippin. But, the youngest Hobbit smiles all the while and they settle down for night. "When did you put on a dress?" he asked, looking over me, as Merry rolls onto his side, grumbling.

"Your perception amazes even me, Pippin," I quip, ruffling some of his hair. I must admit, Pippin has become my favorite amongst the Hobbits, even if he is a little clumsy. "The Lady is letting me borrow it until the blood from my own clothes is gone. Remember this, Master Took, for it is a rare occasion to see me in such clothing."

"Well, you should do it more often. You're very pretty." As I thank him, I hear Legolas agree in our tongue. When I turn to question him, he his already laying down with his eyes closed. He's not asleep and I know it, but I won't bother him…yet. "If this were the Shire, you would be asleep by now."

"Is that so?" I ask, looking back at Pippin who has yet to lay down like myself. He says it's true, very bold and proud. "I've never been to the Shire, only read of it." His jaw drops and looks at me like I'm crazy, saying I lie. "You think I would lie to you?" I ask him incrediously.

"You don't want him to answer that," Legolas voices. I turn to scowl at him and find another smile playing on his lips.

"That settles it!" Pippin exclaims with a broad grin. "You're going to come to Shire after all this is over with! You'll absolutely love it there! It's so—!"

"Pippin! Stop yammering and go to sleep!" Merry snaps, rolling over to glare at his friend then back to his previous positioning.

"Sorry, Merry," apologizes sheepishly, looking to his best friend then to Legolas and I. "Goodnight, Leûra, Legolas."

"Rest well, Pippin," Legolas returns and I nod in agreement, lying down to at least try and sleep. Perhaps the peaceful nature of these woods will impede my dreams for one night?

P.S.: Three pages total.


	20. Advice of the Marchwarden

_**Disclaimer: **_I don't own _The Lord of the Rings _or any of its characters. I only own Leûra, Aearion, Undûme, Cassiopeia, Balanidhren, Aefaradien and any other original characters – so no stealing. However, I don't own Cuiviénen. That place belongs to J. R. R. Tolkien, but the stories of it in Chapter 1 and 2 are all mine.

This is actually sort of a filler. I love Haldir, and was very sad for his lack of role in the book and even sadder when he was killed off in the movies. Anyway, since he's one of my favorites, I wanted to do something with him. This may have been done before, I don't know.

**Chapter 20: Advice of the Marchwarden**

"Lady Ithilelen?" I look up from my belt, finished tightening it. It feels so good to be back in my own clothing! "I thought you might care to spar."

"With the Marchwarden of Lórien?" I ask, a little taken aback that anyone would ask that of me. But Haldir nods all the same, who am I to refuse? "How can I pass up an oppurtunity like this?"

"How do you fare with a long sword?" he asks as we move through the camp to the area where Pippin and Merry usually train with Boromir. None of the others, save a still sleeping Gimli, are here so we have all the space we need.

"I hold my own," I say this setting my short swords aside, and grasping the hilt of the sword he passes to me. After unsheathing it and a quick inspection, I twirl it around my hand as if to dare him to come closer. This should be fun. "You?"

"I hold my own," he echoes with a barely noticeable smile. I hold up my sword and face off with Haldr. He holds his own, ready to fight me as well. "The Lady told me your brother prepares to be king." I thrust at him with my sword, but he parries and swings around with a thrust of his own, which I also parry. We clash blades several times, and I duck a wide arching swing from him.

"You spoke with the Lady of my home?" I ask, angry that the Lady would even do that. It doesn't seem to be in her character.

We face off again and trade one thrust and parry after another. Haldir tries another arching swing from above, but I easily duck and sidestep out of the way. Yet another face off in front of the stairs to my camp, and we trade a few more blows. Haldir tries a swing from above a third time, and again I duck it and escape to the side.

I jump to avoid a swing at my feet, just missing the blade, and swing at him again. He parries and swings at my legs again, and I jump up and over his blade. I land on the grassy earth and turn to look at him, rather smug. He seems to loathe the fact that I dare perform such an act, to look so smug. Jumping as I had is fairly easy as it became a necessity around the Drakes. Especially with the the new borns, who tend to charge at you. After a while, you get used to it and develop a skill for high jumping.

"No, she told me of Aearion," he clarifies. We circle one another now, observing one another carefully. It's good to know that the Lady didn't tell him anything of major importance. "How does my old friend _truly_ fair?"

"You know my brother?" He nods and I can't help but wonder if Aearion knows everyone in this outside world. "He is well. Tired and lonesome, but well."

He nods and quickly tries for my legs yet again, but I block his attempt with my blade. Again we trade several swings and Haldir tries a wide swing again, and cuts me superficially on my arm. I look at my arm for a moment, watching the small slit of blood flow. Looking back up at him I can't tell if he's sorry for this. It's that damn neutral and expressionless face of his! What is it with these ellon, and hiding their emotions?

He wants to fight that way though, we'll fight that way. If Haldir thought I was a pushover, he was sorely mistaken.

He tries to take advantage of my small distraction, and obvious rage, and comes at me with his sword held high, intending to swing from above. But I drop to the ground and roll out of the way, so he only manages to stike a fountain on a small pedestal behind me.

"You fear for his state of being?" he questions casually. I nod from my place on the ground, and kick his legs out from under him and scramble back to my own feet. Normally, I don't resort to physical attack in a friendly spar, but this situation called for it. "You shouldn't worry for him so, but more of yourself."

"And why is that? What has the Lady told you that she has not told me?" I ask, suddenly suspicious as we stare at one another again. I hear a few grunts behind me and guess that our fight as woken Gimli. Oh, well. He should have been up hours ago.

He turns to face me, now on his knees, and swings three times in rapid succession, all of which I parry. He swings a fourth time, and I manage to knock his sword onto the stairs with my parry and pin it there. He backhands me across my face, and I end up spinning away. I don't know if he actually intended harm, but he did. He pulls the sword from the stairs, and swings it hard at me. I block it with mine, just in time, and kick him in the gut, making him double over. I sidestep past him into the clearing, down another set of stairs and straight to a dead end. Perfect! It'll have to do as I hear him coming. I turn and raise my sword to continue the fight, in which he thrusts and I parry.

"I know nothing," he says indifferently. "I merely comment on what I see."

"And what do you see, Marchwarden?" I ask with venom in my tone.

He kicks me this time in my sword arm, and I stumble back a step. I hit the ground and scramble back to my feet as Haldir slowly advances. I thrust, but he parries. I spin around and swing at him, but he blocks me causing my sword to bounce off of his and fall with the tip onto the low wall of the balcony. Haldir stomps on the blade before I can raise it again, and knocks it from my grip.

Okay, this is getting out of hand! Time to retaliate! Haldir suddenly spins around and elbows me in my face, knocking me back into the balcony.

"I see a child who worries too little for herself," he states, still with that annoying neutral tone. I find that, once again, we stare each other down and take in our weak areas while catching our breath. Weak areas are not so common on an Elf. Even less common on Haldir; I suppose that's good considering his station.

"I worry for my kin and my companions. Is that so wrong?" I ask, angry that he thinks he knows how to take care of me, as if he could, better than I do!

"No, it is very good," he comments and I nod slightly, taking that as a compliment. "But, if you do not watch where your foot falls, how will you know where they're leading you?"

"I believe the Lady's cyptic nature has rubbed off on you, Marchwarden," I retort, smiling at him as we're locked, but he shakes his head.

I back up against the balcony wall without my sword while Haldir slowly, and deliberately, advances on me. He plays with his sword, idly pointing it at me as if to taunt me or teach me a lesson. Perhaps that's all this is? A lesson? If so, what she trying to teach me? That he's better? I look up at him with defiance before closing my eyes, and steel myself for whatever's coming.

This isn't over.

"No, just her wisdom."

He draws his sword back and thrusts it directly at my face. Lucky for me though, with lightning-fast reflexes, I swing up with both arms and catch the blade between the palms of my hands. I open my eyes and meet his with that same cold glare. I'm through playing around.

I shove the blade away from me, causing the hilt of the sword to hit Haldir in his face. He staggers back and I quickly hop to my feet, kicking him in the chest. He stumbles back even more, and I reach down and pick up my borrowed sword. I swing it around and thrust at him, but he manages to parry in time. We exchange several blows, blocking each other successfully. I spin around and swing my sword down at him from above. He holds up his own to block, but I hit it so hard that he falls to one knee. I swing again and he blocks. Spinning around yet again, practically making myself sick, I send a kick to his side and he collapses to the ground.

I kick Haldir and he goes flying backwards, he hits the ground and rolls to a stop. We both pause and look around, seeing we're right back where we started. Before he can get all the way back to his feet though, I leap in and swing my sword at him. He almost misses parrying my blow, and he steps back to get his footing. We exchange a few more swings, and Haldir misses a block and gets sliced on his hand.

He cut me, I cut him. Fair's fair.

Haldir drops his sword and holds his cut, looking surprised by my outlash. Taking advantage of his distraction, I twirl the sword and hit his face with the hilt. He falls backward against a tree, landing on his knees before me. I twirl the sword back to its rightful position, and raise her it to mock dispatch Haldir as if to decapitate him. But I stay myself when he suddenly reaches for something. My hesitation cost me as I place my sword to his throat, thinking I've won, only to feel cold steel against my own throat.

We stare at one another for a time, not even breathing, just staring. He's a great fighter, to say the least. The sound of clapping soon reaches our ears and we turn, ever so slightly, to see the rest of the Fellowship. All four Hobbits are smiling and applauding with Gimli. I believe this is the happiest I've seen him in a long time. Aragorn smiles while chewing on the edge of his unlit pipe; the Lady does not abide smoking in her wood. Legolas and Boromir's faces remain plain, looking at us pensively. I sigh, looking back at Haldir, and smile slightly.

"I'll heed your words, Marchwarden," I tell him, removing the borrowed weapon from his throat, and he does so for me. I twirl it again, liking the feel of it, and sheathing it. I hand the sword to him as he sheathes his own, finally rising to his feet again. While I grab my brother's knives and move towards the stairs back to camp, I see the others have settled back into camp. I'm so embarrassed! This place has impaired my hearing more than I thought!

"You're a much better fighter than your brother, Leûra," Haldir calls after me. I stop and look at him as he passes me, moving up the stairs to leave our camp.

"_Hannon lle, Haldir,_" I say without thinking, then pause and smile. He said my name for the first time since we met him; I think it right that I use his name as well.

"_Tenna' ento lye omenta, hiril nin,_" he replies with a small bow, and a nod to Aragorn and Legolas. As Haldir leaves, I shake my head, seeing that we've reached a common ground, and move to sit with Pippin and Merry. They talk to Sam about their home, and I am intrigued by their tales of the Shire.

My once reserved opinions of people are changing. Legolas is not the pain I once saw him to be. Aragorn is not just man, but a fierce Ranger, a healer and a strong leader. Boromir is a man of few words, to me at least, but he is determind and loves the Hobbits as much as I; he'll do good towards them. Gimli, though sometimes rude, is quite different from the Dwarves I read about. I like him, and trust him with the other's lives. The Hobbits have had to grow up fast, and for that I almost pity them. They should not have to see the things they have, but they stay strong and don't complain.

Well, that is unless they get hungry.

As for Haldir, well…Haldir is good-natured when duty allows. He shows his kindness to all of us, though he holds contempt for Gimli, and is unusually intelligent since most Elves of Lothlórien do not speak Westron as we and Legolas do. I think, for now, I'll count him as a friend and I cannot wait until we next meet so I can greet him as such.

**Translations:**

Tenna' ento lye omenta, hiril nin: Until we next meet, my lady

_**A/N: **_As I said before, this is sort of a filler. Again, I love Haldir, and just about cried when he was killed off in the movies. Anyway, I've gone through my book and even checked online for information on Haldir. There's not much besides his home, his two brothers and his station. So, in light of that, I decided to make him old…er, hence his knowing Aearion. Sorry if I've upset anyone with this!

P.S.: Five pages total.


	21. Farewell to Lórien

_**Disclaimer: **_I don't own _The Lord of the Rings _or any of its characters. I only own Leûra, Aearion, Undûme, Cassiopeia, Balanidhren, Aefaradien and any other original characters – so no stealing. However, I don't own Cuiviénen. That place belongs to J. R. R. Tolkien, but the stories of it in Chapter 1 and 2 are all mine.

**Chapter 21: Farewell to Lórien**

"Never before have we clad strangers in the garb of our own people. May these cloaks help shield you from unfriendly eyes," Celeborn states as the Elves prepared for our departure. Legolas is among them, shifting parcels into a set of boats provided by the Galadhrim. As I see Pippin and Merry sit in a boat, he holds up a thin wafer for them to see.

"Lembas! Elvish Way-bread. One small bite is enough to fill the stomach of a grown man," he tells them with a smile, then walked up onto shore, leaving the Hobbits by themselves. I overhear Merry ask Pippin how many he ate, and Pippin burps saying four. I can't help but smile and shake my head slightly before returning my attention to Lord Celeborn.

"Every league you travel south, the danger will increase. Mordor Orcs now hold the eastern shore of the Anduin." As the Elf Lord speaks, we climb into the boats. Legolas helps Gimli onboard, as Sam tried to steady himself in the boat he would share with Aragorn and Frodo.

Meanwhile, I see Aragorn and Celeborn wander through the heavy mist and sunlight. I follow behind as Haldir walks with me, bidding me good-bye. While Celeborn tells Aragorn we will not find safety on the Western Bank, Aragorn accepts the dagger he is presented with. The Lord tells him that we stand a chance of out-running the enemy to the Falls of Rauros by the river.

"_Le aphadar aen,_" Haldir says, as we leave Aragorn and Celeborn to speak privately. I thought it best considering I heard Celeborn mention the Evenstar, whatever that is. It sounds important though, sounds personal.

"_Amin weera yassen lle. N'dela no'ta,_" I reply casually as we arrived near the boats. I see Legolas look towards us, waiting to help me into the boat with him and Gimli.

"_Quel fara, mellonamin. Lissenen ar' maska'lalaith tenna' lye omentuva,_" he says, clasping my arm like he did with Legolas when we first met.

"_Lle naa belegohtar. Ta nae amin saesa, Haldir,_" I compliment him with a smile. Standing there for a moment, a little awkwardly, I finally decide it's time to leave.

Before I move to Legolas, I wrap my arms around Haldir's neck and hug him. He responds, wrapping his arms around my back a little unsure of himself. I suppose he's not used to such contact. We seperate and nod our farewells, and I quickly make my way to Legolas. As I step into the boat, Gimli and Legolas look at me curiously. I stare back at them, more threateningly, and they stop.

We have rested as long as we can, and I'm sure the Hobbits would've enjoyed the Elves more if they hadn't been so sad. Gandalf was like family to them, to all of us, and now he is gone. Nothing will ever be the same again. I can see it on Pippin and Merry's faces that all they want in this instance is for him to appear, and make them wash dishes like he had in a story they told me. I assume it is in moments like that, that they weren't sure if he was mad at them, or simply teaching them a lesson because he really cared. Whereas I can see all Frodo and Sam want is to hear the sweet old Wizard's voice again, whether it is scolding or kind.

I cannot blame for I feel the same way.

We now paddle away from Lórien in the canoes we've graciously been given. As we go up river, I notice that all of the Elves are watching us. It makes me feel awkward with all eyes on us. It's almost unnatural! Aragorn leads the way, of course, Frodo and Sam with him. Boromir is behind him with Pippin and Merry. Legolas brings out the rear with Gimli, who is actually sad we are leaving the city, and myself.

I look to the shore and see Lady Galadriel raise her hand to us, telling us farewell with a small smile. My eyes immediately go to my lap in which the gift she bestowed upon me rests. The sun is reaching its rosy fingers over the hills; Caras Galadhon rises far away, in the mists. A song of sorrow of the Elves of Lothlórien echoes throughout the air. As we move further downstream, I stare distantly and smile, remembering earlier events.

"_My gift for you, Legolas, is a bow of the Galadhrim, worthy of the skill of our woodland kin," Galadriel says and she smiled as Legolas admires the bow and quiver in awe, a smile graceing his own lips. "These are the daggers of the Noldorin. They have already seen service in war," she explains, handing the daggers, with small silver belts, to Pippin and Merry. "Do not fear, young Peregrin Took. You will find your courage."_

I look back at the Hobbits, and see the same distant stare. They, too, are remembering the meeting as we sail downriver.

"_And for you, Samwise Gamgee, Elven rope, made of Ihithlain," she says, handing him the rope, which he took in the same awe the others were in._

"_Thank you, my lady." He looks sidelong at the blades held by Pippin and Merry, then looks up hopefully. "Have you run out of those nice, shiny daggers?" The Lady just smiled at him, and turned to the next Fellowship member in line: Gimli. The Dwarf Lord diverted his eyes downwards. _

"_And what gift would a Dwarf ask of the Elves?" she asks, her golden hair shining beneath the poignant blues, whites and greens of the forest._

"_Nothing," Gimli grunts, but a change comes over him and he looks up. "Except to look upon the Lady of the Galadhrim one last time, for she is more fair than all the jewels beneath the earth." I smile at Gimli, who finally finds respect for the Elves, as Galadriel giggles, smiling at him. He turns to walk away, but halts and turns back. "Actually, there was one thing…ah, agh, that's quite impossible. Stupid to ask."_

I look at Gimli, sitting in front of me. He looks down at something in his hand, then back up at the shores where the Lady had been standing. I can only imagine a faint smile gracing his face. Looking ahead of me, I see Boromir with his gift, a golden belt, around his waist. Aragorn glances at us then to the river ahead. He, too, is remembering the farewell on the shores of Lothlórien. I remember that Galadriel gave him a sheath for Anduril, and a broach with a large stone.

"_I have nothing greater to give, than the gift you already bear." Galadriel stands before Aragorn and places her hand on a beautiful pendant he wears. Aw, Aragorn has a beau! Or he has a strange liking for women's jewelry. "_Am meleth dîn. I ant e-guil Arwen Undómie…pelitha._" The two share a common sorrow in their eyes._

"Aníron i e broniatha ar periatham amar hen. Aníron e ciratha a Valannor._" Aragorn wants to send his love away, to Valinor? Oh, that means she must be an elleth! Oh, dear. I can see how that would be a problem._

"_That choice is yet before her. You have your own choice to make, Aragorn…to rise above the height of all your fathers since the days of Elendil, or to fall into darkness…with all that is left of your kin." There is silence for a moment. Branches shake, a spider's web glimmering strands sway in the wind as Galadriel glances at the pendant and smiles. "_Namárië. Nadath nâ i moe cerich. Dan ú-'eveditham, Elessar._" Galadriel moves to Frodo and handed him a crystalline vessel shaped like a teardrop, filling with clear water and a shining light._

"_Farewell, Frodo Baggins. I give you the Light of Eärendil, our most beloved star." She kisses him on his forehead and smiles gently. "May it be a light for you, in dark places, when all other lights go out."_

We sail out onto the river and leave Lórien behind with lighter hearts than when we arrived. White mountains rise starkly beneath blue skies and green trees. Gimli turns around, and begins to talk to Legolas and I. He tells us that he had taken his worst wound at this parting, having looked his last upon that which is fairest. He says he will call nothing fair unless it be her gift to him. Legolas asks him what his gift was, beating me to it.

"I asked her for one hair from her golden head. She gave me three," he answers, showing the hairs to both of us and we smile.

"And you, Leûra? What gift did the Lady bestow upon you?" I look up at him and smile, remembering.

"_Y__our mother was once of this realm…and a dear friend," Galadriel tells me with a bit of sadness, and I'm shocked to know this. I knew mother was from Lórien, but I did not know she knew the Lady. "I have mourned her pass for far too long. The time to celebrate the life she gave with her final breath is now." She speaks of my birth, but I am very confused. What is she saying? "I give you the Giltha knives, Leûra. Weapons you can call your own, and cease the use of your brothers." _

_She hands me brown leather fighting scabbards, embossed with an Elven vine design, and solid metal collar and tip. I unsheath the knives and take in their exquisit craftsmenship. The silver, glinting blade is long and thick, tempered in stainless steel, sharp-edged and deeply etched with a gold-tone color. The plaque of the blade is the finest wood, adorned with a carving of a Drake and my family's crest: the __Septagram__._

"_And one gift more." I look up, confused. Two gifts? Why? "Celeborn and I take you as our daughter." I look up at her, stunned, and quickly sheath the beautiful knives._

"_No, that is too much, my Lady," I argue, shaking my head. "I cannot let you do that!"_

"It is our choice. We take you as our daughter, and I hope you will take us as the parents you never knew." I stand there for a moment, not sure what to do. So I nod and Galadriel smiles, kissing my forehead as she did for Frodo.

"She gave me knives of my own," I answer, holding them proudly, and pause before smiling happily. I turn to look up at Legolas, and he continues to paddle up the river. "And took me as her daughter."

"She…!" He looks down at me, shocked and astonished. But he soon smiled widely as his gaze returns to the journey ahead. "That is a great gift indeed."

**Translations:**

Le aphadar aen: You are being tracked

Amin weera yassen lle. N'dela no'ta: I agree with you. Don't worry about it

Quel fara, mellonamin: Good hunting, my friend

Lissenen ar' maska'lalaith tenna' lye omentuva: Sweet water and light laughter till next we meet

Lle naa belegohtar: You are a mighty warrior

Ta nae amin saesa, Haldir: It was my pleasure, Haldir

Am meleth dîn. I ant e-guil Arwen Undómie…pelitha: For her love, I fear the grace of Arwen Evenstar...will diminish

Aníron i e broniatha ar periatham amar hen. Aníron e ciratha a Valannor: I would have Namárië: Farewell

Nadath nâ i moe cerich. Dan ú-'eveditham, Elessar: There is much you have yet to do. We shall not meet again, Elessar

P.S.: Five pages total.


	22. Parth Galen

_**Disclaimer: **_I don't own _The Lord of the Rings _or any of its characters. I only own Leûra, Aearion, Undûme, Cassiopeia, Balanidhren, Aefaradien and any other original characters – so no stealing. However, I don't own Cuiviénen. That place belongs to J. R. R. Tolkien, but the stories of it in Chapter 1 and 2 are all mine.

**Chapter 22: Parth Galen**

We continue up a great river that stretches as far as the eye can see. Passing out onto a larger branch of the Anduin, we float beneath sheer cliffs. All around us are dying woods and lengthy mountains. I hear something though; it's faint, but it's there. Footsteps, running footsteps. We are indeed being tracked! Haldir was right!

The army of Uruk-hai follows us, and they are much closer than I expected. I whip my eyes around, looking at everything. I finally pinpoint the location of the sound, and look to the woods on my left. I dart my eyes throughout the woods, but I see nothing. I notice Legolas doing the same as a distinct howling reaches our ears. When the noise finally subsides though, we reach a shoreline.

Our boats soon pass through a canyon. I look around at the others, making sure nothing is amiss. It's then I notice Boromir glancing at Frodo's boat across the water. I do trust Boromir as much as I can be expected to, but he worries more and more now. Perhaps my trust is misplaced? I know that the Uruks are running in pursuit of us, and that I shouldn't be questioning a companion's motives. But, still, I wonder if Boromir's motives are as true as he says.

"Frodo," I hear Aragorn say, drawing me out of my thoughts, "the Argonath." Aragorn points up to the tall standing statues two men. "Long have I desired to look upon the kings of old, my kin," he says wistfully. I can hear the contentment in his voice and let a tiny smile grow on me.

I look up in awe at the towering splendor of the Argonath. Two majestic statues proudly stand on each side of the Anduin. Their right arms are held aloft, their palms facing outwards in gesture of warning. I see Pippin and Merry look at the statues in awe like Gimli, excitement in their eyes. Frodo and Sam still seem sad while Boromir can't be happier; he looks relieved at the sight. But, being that they are symbols of his home, of Gondor, it's understandable.

Though this is a sight to behold, Legolas and I still watch our surroundings warily. We paddle quickly past the statues of the kings, shrinking next to the enormous feet. In front of us is a great, roaring waterfall with one tall pointed pillar in its center. The three leaders paddle our canoes to our right, avoiding the waterfall at all costs, and wefinally go ashore. As we disembark on a gravel beach, Boromir looks troubled and appears to be fighting a conflict within him. I see Frodo glancing at him, looking afraid, and I know now that my fears are true. Boromir must be watched at all costs.

"We cross the lake at nightfall, hide the boats, and continue on foot," Aragorn announces as we start to make camp; Gimli and the Hobbits preparing a fire. "We approach Mordor from the North."

"Oh, yes? Just a simple matter of finding our way trough Emyn Muil, an impossible labyrinth of razor-sharp rocks and, after that, it gets even better," Gimli states sarcastically, three of the Hobbits looking up at him rather alarmed. "Festering, stinking marshlands, far as the eye can see."

Rolling my eyes, as I often do at his complaints, I decide to joing Legolas in scouting the area. Keeping my distance, far from him, of course. I know I heard something on the other side of the river. I know Legolas heard something, too. We just can't seem to find their exact location.

"That is our road. I suggest you take some rest and recover your strength, Master Dwarf." Gimli stutters, flustered at the indirect insult Aragorn threw, grumbling under his breath as he goes back to stoking the small fire. Legolas and I exchange a worried glance before we make our way over to Aragorn. We pull him away to make sure we are not within earshot of the group. The last things we need are a panicked Dwarf and scared Hobbits.

"We should leave now," Legolas warns but Aragorn shakes his head.

"No. Orcs patrol the Eastern Shore," he reminds his ever-aware friend. "We must wait for cover of darkness."

"It is not the Eastern Shore that worries us," the ellon whispers, and looks back to the woods. "A shadow and a threat has been growing in my mind. Something draws near. I can feel it." Legolas looks back at the woods, Aragorn and I joining him. Our gaze wanders over the dark pine woods, with a dark, brooding statue nestled amongst their needles.

"It will make its presence known to us," I say, looking over the woods then back at Aragorn. "Soon," I warn warily, Legolas agreeing as Aragorn looks between us, alert and ready.

"No Dwarf need recover his strength," I hear Gimli grumble again and look over to see Merry drop more firewood. "Pay no need to that, young Hobbit."

"Where's Frodo?" Merry asks as he looks at the camp. Aragorn stops talking to Legolas as he hears Merry, and begins to scan the camp as well.

Sam, who had been half-dozing, roused with a start. He leans forward from the rock he napped on, startled to find Frodo is gone. Aragorn moves back to the others, Legolas and I close behind. As we look over the camp, our gaze stops on Boromir's shield, lying with his pack. I look at Aragorn and our eyes fell on the woods as we realize that Boromir is gone as well.

P.S.: Three pages total.


	23. Beginning of the End

_**Disclaimer: **_I don't own _The Lord of the Rings _or any of its characters. I only own Leûra, Aearion, Undûme, Cassiopeia, Balanidhren, Aefaradien and any other original characters – so no stealing. However, I don't own Cuiviénen. That place belongs to J. R. R. Tolkien, but the stories of it in Chapter 1 and 2 are all mine.

**Chapter 23: Beginning of the End**

Just as I am about to run off in search of our missing friends, Boromir comes stumbling back into camp. Aragorn looks just as annoyed with the Gondorian as I am. He has more restraint than I have though, as I lunge at the mortal. I push him pack against a tree, ready to slit his throat when I feel arms around my own. I whip around and see the stern face of Legolas. He pulls me off of Boromir so Aragorn can interrogate him. I look at the camp, and see that Pippin and Merry look a little afraid of me. I hang my head as Legolas realeases me, seeing I've calmed down.

"Where have you been, Boromir?" Aragorn asks, gripping his fellow brother's arms, as if daring him to lie. "Have you seen Frodo?"

As I study Boromir, I notice a flash of guilt on his face.

"I did," he answers tentatively.

My temper flares again. Legolas must sense this, and he places a hand on my shoulder as I move a step closer to the Man. I look back at him and he shakes his head. I nod slowly, clenching my fists so hard that my knuckles turn white. I notice Sam and the others standing around, watching our scene with interest and fear.

"I went to collect wood for fire. I found him near a stone, long aged and lost from its body. I spoke to him." Aragorn's face immediately paled at these words. "He vanished into thin air. He must have put on the Ring. I couldn't find him and returned here in hopes he had returned."

"Is that all you have to say?" Aragorn asks, glaring at Boromir. "After all that has happened, after all we've suffered, is that all you have to say?"

"I-I…I'm sorry," he whimpers sadly, his chest beginning to rack with fear. The Hobbits and Gimli jump up in anger, firing question after question at Boromir who ignores them. I, on the other hand, leave Legolas' side and whisper coldly into Boromir's ear.

"You stupid, arrogant man! Do you not realize that since Frodo put on the Ring, the Nazgûl could come this way? You may have just cost us all our lives! You've forfieted all our lives and efforts because of your greed!" Boromir winces at my words, and looks at the leaf-littered ground, completely ashamed. He's about to start apologizing when Aragorn gently pushes me aside.

"How long has it been since you have seen Frodo?" Boromir looks up at the positioning of the sun, then to the woods and back at Aragorn.

"I don't know. An hour, perhaps." Aragorn sighes again, haning his head then looking around us carefully. "I wandered for sometime. I don't know, I don't know."

The other three Hobbits suddenly take off running, worried about their cousin and friend. They leave their packs behind, ignoring mine and Aragorn's calls to come back. Their voices can be heard as they call out Frodo's name over and over again. Sighing in defeat, Aragorn turns and throws Boromir a hard look.

"Go after the Hobbits, and guard them. Even if you do not find Frodo, that is the least you can do. Come back to this spot if you find him or any traces of him. I shall return soon."

With that, Aragorn ran into the forest to find Frodo. Boromir left soon after on the trail of the other three Hobbits leaving Legolas, Gimli and myself by the boats. As the minutes pass, a foul smell lingers in the air and on my tongue. The smell of ash, blood and death. I know this smell, and Legolas must know it, too since I look to him. His eyes widen as realization dawns on him.

"Orcs. Uruk-hai." Ignoring Legolas, I look from across the river to the depths of the woods on my right.

"They're here," I realize. The three of us run towards the direction where Aragorn disappeared. I hope that he is safe for we cannot lose him. He is our leader! I won't let him die like I did Gandalf! I won't!

P.S.: Two pages total.


	24. Breaking of the Fellowship

_**Disclaimer: **_I don't own _The Lord of the Rings _or any of its characters. I only own Leûra, Aearion, Undûme, Cassiopeia, Balanidhren, Aefaradien and any other original characters – so no stealing. However, I don't own Cuiviénen. That place belongs to J. R. R. Tolkien, but the stories of it in Chapter 1 and 2 are all mine.

**Chapter 24: Breaking of the Fellowship**

We run through the woods, killing off any Orcs that cross our paths. In the distance, I hear one of the beasts order his troops to find the Halflings and the She-Elf. They are after the all the Hobbits because they do not know which one has the Ring, obviously, but why are they after me? What would Sauron want with...oh, no. The Stone! Sauron saw me through the Stone! He may think I have the Ring as well! That doesn't matter now though, we have to find Aragorn and Frodo.

"Elendil!" I hear the familiar voice of Aragorn shout as we run forward from behind the the ruins. Legolas shoots several Uruk-hai as Gimli lands blows with his axe. My new knives work much better than my brothers ever did as I kill off the Orcs near me with ease.

"Aragorn! Go!" Legolas orders as we block the enemies' path so they can't follow him. Aragorn has to go after Frodo; he has to protect him from the Orcs on his tiny tail.

The three of us are heated within battle. At every corner, there are more waiting for us. It seems endless! It is at moments like this, in constant barrages of attacks, that I hate myself for wishing Boromir was around to help. As I severe an Orcs head from its body, I look around. My keen Elf sight darts through the woods to try and see the Hobbits.

They are all alone, and cannot defend themselves. They could die! That is all I need. I may not trust the others that much, but the Hobbits are innocent, and don't deserve such a fate. I've failed Gandalf, I won't fail them. I kill another Orc, and take off into the woods. I hear Legolas call after me, but I don't stop. He and Gimli can take care of themselves, and catch up with me when they can. My priority right now is the Hobbits. I have to find them!

I continue to fight the Uruk-hai as I dash down a hilltop. There aren't many near me, they must still be back at the ruins. In one smooth move, I stab one Uruk in the throat then decapitate two others through a spin. I stab the last one near me in its back, slit its throat for good measure, and take off down the hill again.

I run over yet another annoying hilltop, and see Pippin and Merry near an old stone bridge. Relief washes over me as I see them, fighting strong and hard…with Boromir. More Orcs and Uruk-hai are coming at them from the front. My faith in Boromir is resotred as I see him protecting the Hobbits. I smile and fly down the hill. As I do so, I take the dagger in my boot and throw it at an Orc about to kill Boromir from behind him. He whips around at the sound of the body hitting the ground.

"You're welcome," I tease and Boromir pulls out a dagger from his belt, throwing it behind me. I duck and turn around and see an Orc fall dead behind me, ax raised above his head. Boromir steps around me and quickly sheathes his dagger, then grabs mine.

"_You're_ welcome." I glare at him for a moment before snatching my dagger. I sheath it and we smile at one another, trust finally between us. We run back to the bridge to fight as we see more Orcs coming over the hill.

I kill three more Orcs, Boromir's back to my own, and I hear him blow his horn three more times in every direction. I only pray that the others arrive in time to help. The enemy forces storm down the hill though and we kill off the last few near us. He turned to Pippin and Merry, ordering them to run which they did without hesitation. As they scurried off, Boromir ordered me to go with them. I hesitate to the point that he had to push me away.

"Go! Protect them!" he shouts and I listen, pained and hesitant.

Pippin and Merry call to me, and I have no choice but to run to them. I don't want to leave him, but it can't be helped. Either stay and allow Pippin and Merry to be captured, or go and stand a good chance of survival. We run up the hill, a good distance away from the enemy. The two suddenly stop, and look back at Boromir. I look with them and my breath catches in my throat as I see the army's leader Uruk-hai, Lurtz, walking towards the battle.

Boromir continues to cut through the hordes of Orcs with no problem, not even noticing Lurtz stretch his bow and take aim. The arrow is released, and lodges itself within Boromir's left shoulder. The Hobbits and I watch as he staggers backwards in shock, all of us calling to him fearfully. I hold them back as Boromir drops to his knees, his face etched with pain and what seems like relief. I can hear his breath grow hard as the Uruks come closer. But he isn't down long before he got up and continues to fight, giving a battle cry, and killing anything that comes near him.

_**A/N: **_The reason for these three chapters is that I'm going on vacation Friday, and I wrote all this last night! I thought you might want them, since you've been itching for a battle. Hope I did okay, and I'll have at least two more before I go to PA. With those, I should be marking the end of _The Fellowship_. Whoo-hoo!

P.S.: Two pages total.


	25. The Fall of Boromir

_**Disclaimer: **_I don't own _The Lord of the Rings _or any of its characters. I only own Leûra, Aearion, Undûme, Cassiopeia, Balanidhren, Aefaradien and any other original characters – so no stealing. However, I don't own Cuiviénen. That place belongs to J. R. R. Tolkien, but the stories of it in Chapter 1 and 2 are all mine.

**Chapter 25: The Fall of Boromir**

Lurtz cocks the bow and shoots Boromir a second time, this time just above his hip. Boromir falls to his knees again, and looks up at the three of us for a moment. I'm completely frightened and frozen to the spot. I can feel my blood running cold. What do I do? What about Pippin and Merry? Boromir…no. No! Not when he's redeemed himself! No! My friend will _not_ fall! I won't let him!

"Boromir!" I shout, racing to his side. "Get up! Get up!" I shout, trying to pull him to his feet. I have to help him escape, but he pushes me away.

"Run! Get out of here!" he barks at me without much power behind his voice. I stare at him incredulously, but he pushes me again. "Now! Do as I say!"

"Pippin! Merry! Run!" I shout back to them as I decapitate and gut a few more Orcs. "Find Aragorn! Go!" I look up and see them run. I sigh, happy that they've listened for once as Boromir rises to his feet to fight back-to-back with me. "Hundreds against two. Could get pointless."

"Have faith, my friend," he gasps, gripping his sword. "Pray, if it suits you." He lets a small laugh leave his mouth, mocking my words to him at Moria. I quirk a smile.

"Much blood will be spilt this day," I say and we begin to cut down the Orcs, eventually stretching far away from one another.

I'm surrounded and kill off the bumbling Uruks with ease. Faidwen (freedom) and Gwiil (peace) sing as they crush through the muscles and bones. Black blood covers my hands soon as I triumph over more Orcs. I soon hear a painful groan, and I whip around only to have my heart clench to see Boromir. Another arrow has decided to grace him, close to his heart. I try to run at him, but I scream out in anguish as lightning rips through my side.

I drop to my knees, Faidwen and Gwiil discarded as I clutch to my waist. I've been run through. How did this happen? How did my life come to this? I look up at Boromir and see him staring into nothing. He's white as a ghost. Looking ahead, I see Lurtz come closer. I hear a shreaking laugh behind me, and I look up to see the ugly face of an Orc. He's licking my blood off his blade, saying how tasty Elf blood is. My body feels so heavy, I can't hold myself up any longer. I fall face first to the ground; one hand clutching the earth, and the other my fresh wound.

Shouts soon come to my ears and I look up with more effort than I should. I feel like I've been thrown by the Kraken again! What is that? Those figures? No…it can't be…Pippin? Merry? It _is_ them! Their running down the hill, swords in hand, to protect their would-be saviors. Such strange a strange word, savior. I never thought I would call myself that. But look at me: I'm wounded, crawling on the ground, seperated from my quarry and endangering two Halflings, practically children.

Who am I to be called "savior"?

I look up again, a swell of dizziness coming over me. Before Pippin and Merry can even swing their swords, they're caught by their throats. As I watch them struggle to break free, they scream their lungs out calling mine and Boromir's names. I force myself up and crawl to the tree next to me. I lean on it pushing myself up until I'm standing, my legs shaking furiously and threatening to buckle. Blood drips down down into the earth as I cry out in pain. The Orc who stabbed me runs closer to kill me; I guess he's angry I moved. Just as he raises his swords to cut me again an arrow flies through his neck, breaking out on the other side. Hope fills me as he falls down dead, and I look for Legolas. Perhaps he, Aragorn and Gimli have finally arrived!

No, it's not them. It's not them! It's Lurtz; he killed the Orc for trying to kill me. They want me alive…

The army soon passes me, carrying the Hobbits and moving downward. I can barely hear their cries now, but I know they're fighting against the enemy. The Orcs completely pass Boromir as well, who is frozen to his spot on his knees. He still stares into nothing as I call out his name, but gain no reaction. Lurtz is now only one that remains with us. Boromir looks up into the face of the devil as he stretched back his bow again to shoot him in his face.

"Hey!" I shout as hard as I can, my strength draining fast. I writhe against the cold bark of the tree as Lurtz glances at me out of the corner of his eyes, lowering the bow slightly. "Take me! I am better than him, stronger! You don't want him! Take me!" Lurtz completely lowers his bow, and does as I want him to: he walks towards me. What now? Um…perhaps I haven't thought this all the way through?

I hear Boromir muttering incoherently, probably trying to call Lurtz away from me. Even with my Elven hearing, I can't make out anything. Just the sound of my blood rushing to her head as the Lurtz reaches me, bow strapped on his back. I'm sorry my friend, but it has to be this way. I have to stall him long enough for Aragorn to find us and heal you. Lurtz suddenly wraps a hand around my throat. He strangles me, lifting me off my feet, and sniffs the side of my face. Coughs rack my body as I try to kick him off, but his cold hand just tightens until my sight becomes dark.

I can feel his other hand fingering the wound in her side, all the while my hands claw at his vice grip on my throat. I can feel the heels of my feet hitting the tree as if I am some crazy beggar who needs restraints. He suddenly digs his claws into my flesh, I scream. My throat and lungs stretch, shaking as my voice echoes throughout the woods. His grips tightens again, cutting me off and he sniff me again as another Uruk runs up next to him.

"Take her," he snarls to his ugly companion. "Saruman will be pleased." He pulls me closer to him before bashing my head against the tree.

I'm drifting into unconsciousness, I know this, but I feel myself moving as blood trickles through my hair. Opening my eyes, I see I've been thrown over an Uruks shoulders. The darkness is becoming greater as I look up even further and see Boromir. Lurtz has walked back over to him, unstrapped his bow and is taking aim. We pass over a hill and my eyes close against my will. My body aches with pain and my blood flows over this foul beast. My breath is shaky as I hear shout from where Boromir is. Is that Boromir dying? Or is that our quarry coming to the rescue? I don't know.

I'm so tired…so…tired…

_**A/N: **_Hey! Hope this was to your liking! But, getting straight to the point, I need you, my loving readers, to vote. Should Leûra go with Gandalf after Èomer and the riders, or stay for the Battle of Helm's Deep to possibly save Haldir (I'm not sure on that bit yet.) or both.

Those are your choices! For the both bit, I'll work something out if that's the final choice. The reason for this vote is that I'm getting close to the big battle, and I'm not sure what to do. Hence, the vote. Please vote and save me!

P.S.: Three pages total.


	26. Guilt's Escaping

_**Disclaimer: **_I don't own _The Lord of the Rings _or any of its characters. I only own Leûra, Aearion, Undûme, Cassiopeia, Balanidhren, Aefaradien and any other original characters – so no stealing. However, I don't own Cuiviénen. That place belongs to J. R. R. Tolkien, but the stories of it in Chapter 1 and 2 are all mine.

**Chapter 26: Guilt's Escape**

Grunting? Marching? Footsteps; hurried, running footsteps. My eyelids are heavy and refuse to open. I can feel that my body is still draped over an Uruk's shoulder. Not only can I feel it, the monster's armor digging into me, I smell it. I can feel the tingle in my limbs, the cold that covers me and the dry scabs on my side scratching against my capturers' armor. I no longer hear leaves crushing under these monster's feet. I don't even hear the river now. Where am I? If I could only open my eyes!

Ugh, my head pounds with regret and my throat cries for water. I can barely breathe as I wheeze and choke on the roughness of my throat. I have to open my eyes! I have to find out where I am! I have to know if…oh, Valar! Boromir! Pippin! Merry! I have to know! Are they alive? Dammit! Open your eyes!

Tears? Tears are stinging my eyes! I _can_ open them! I know I can! Ugh, my head hurts. The constant pounding reminds me of drums. My lids slowly raise on command, at last, and I see a few Uruks behind me. There are no Orcs here, at least none that I can see. So there _is_ some good news. I look around, careful not to move too much. I don't want to alert them to my awakening yet. Without much mobility, I can't find Pippin, Merry or Boromir. I hope they are in good health. We're going to need it.

"We're tired of this running!" I hear an Uruk near me growl, and the walking ceases. I decide to keep one eye open as the scene unfolds. "We must stop and rest!"

"I don't take orders from you!" Another Uruk, Mauhúr, shouted, pushing the whining Uruk. "Saruman will have his prize. We will deliver them."

"I think this one's dead." The Uruk holding me throws me to the ground. I bit my lip as I roll over to face the ground, forbidding myself to cry out. Mauhúr orders the Uruk who threw me down to pick me up, and shouts to start running again. "The She-Elf is dead!" My carrier argues still.

"We'll see about that." Mauhúr grasp my shoulder and rolls me over. I hold my breath and slow my heart beat as Aearion taught me. The Uruk sniffs me then snarls fierocously.

"The She-Elf is dead!" he announces to the troop of Uruks. I can hear vague grunting, and one asks if they can eat me. Stupid, filthy, mangy cannibals! Touch me and I'll show you how dead I am! "Send her body ahead to Saruman! No need to waste time with her!"

A few moments pass and I hear footsteps and something like a struggle. I hear mention of them smelling Man-flesh, and I smile inwardly knowing they smell Aragorn. What is going on? What are they doing? Suddenly, I'm hoisted up and throw over another shoulder. A new Uruk holds me for his smell is less foul than the last. He begins to run and I see two other pairs of feet with him.

I feel like crying and screaming. There is nothing I can do! Boromir and the Halflings are being left behind; I cannot save them. I can only pray that Valar keep them until I can escape, or Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli find them. Where are those three?

My new carriers take me to closer to Isengard. They've left the pack and run home with no whips to sting at them. Oh, my side is killing me and my eyes grow heavy even now. My wound has undoubtedly reopened. I can't take this anymore! I'm sorry, Pippin, Merry, Boromir…I'm sorry…

_**A/N: **_Short, I know. The next few chapters will be sort of boring. At least until Chapter 31 when Théodred dies – just thought I'd let you know. After that, well, you can guess.

Also, as the results of the vote came in, Leûra will go to Helm's Deep. I was going to have her go with Gandalf as well, but I just started to confuse myself. So, if I can confuse myself then I'd be confusing you, too, and that's no good. Hope you like what I've got coming for Legolas/Leûra-ness, and the Battle of Hornburg.

P.S.: Two pages total.


	27. Traces of Friends

_**Disclaimer: **_I don't own _The Lord of the Rings _or any of its characters. I only own Leûra, Aearion, Undûme, Cassiopeia, Balanidhren, Aefaradien and any other original characters – so no stealing. However, I don't own Cuiviénen. That place belongs to J. R. R. Tolkien, but the stories of it in Chapter 1 and 2 are all mine.

**Chapter 27: Traces of Friends**

I rouse from my slumber upon thunder crashing in my sensitive ears, more by lack of silence than choice. My head still aches with a numb pounding as I caress it lazily. Freezing pellets of ice rain down on me as the foreboading sky weeps. At least my mother's cloak is still with me to keep me warm, or as warm as it can. I look up into the black of the night sky; no stars, no clouds. I look around and my heart drops, realizing where I am. The Uruks reached their goal: I am at the top of Orthanc Tower, in Isengard.

Lightning flashes and I hear roaring, cheering. Looking to my right, I crawl a short distance to the edge and look down. My limbs are still shaky, but I have to push myself. I have to know what's going on! Streching my eyes are far as I can, I see him. The White Wizard and betrayer of all Middle-earth, stands in the middle of a group of Men-Wild Men, who are holding torches and weapons. Saruman's words just barely reach my ears.

"The Horsemen took your lands! They drove your people into the hills to scratch the living off rocks! Take back the lands they stole from you! Burn every village!" The crowd roars with approval, and I watch them march out of Isengard.

"Damn him," I whisper, crawling back to where I started. "Damn him to the fires of Mordor."

Checking myself quickly, I feel my horn to call Balanidhren is gone. Saruman must have taken it for good measure. I feel my side, looking down, and see I'm covered in my own and the enemy's blood. Faidwen and Gwiil are no longer with me, only their scabbards remain. The satchel that holds the Stone resides with me still, as does the Stone. Perhaps, then, Saruman didn't take my horn but I lost it? If he took my horn, wouldn't he take the Stone as well? If that's true, then I should be dead.

Wait, the Uruks brought me hear believing I'm dead already. So why am I up here? Saruman must have seen through my plan, if I can even call it that. Then why is the Stone still…ugh, I have a headache!

Rubbing my throat, I feel the chain of my family's crest is still with me. So, I have no weapons, no friends, no hope. I am completely at Saruman's mercy – not that it still exists, if it ever did. At least I still carry the Stone, perhaps that can be used as leverage of some kind.

"Princess Leûra Ithilelen of Cuiviénen." I look up and see the White Wizard himself, clad in robes no longer fit for him and staff in hand. "Lady of the Helcar Sea and Tamer of Dragons." He's mocking me. I stare at him with all the hatred I've carried since this joureny began. He simply smiles and walks over to me, slowly as if to taunt me. "I know you have the Palantír. My Lord has told me so. Give it to me."

"You b…betrayed us all," I choke out, clutching my side wound one more. "Y-You betrayed Middle-earth…Gandalf."

"Against the power of Mordor, there can be no victory. You must join with him…like your father."

"You p-poisoned my father's mind w-with your magic! W-With the Stone!" I shout, writhing in even more pain. My throat and lungs burn, most likely from when Lurtz strangled me.

"Your father joined willingly at the final battle after he discovered the Palantír, after he saw its power," he states, stopping in the center of Orthanc as I rest my body against a pillar and try to stand. "You must join with Sauron. It would be wise, My Lady."

"And tell me, "My Lord", when did Saruman the Wise abandon reason and friendship for blood and war?" I quote what I believe Gandalf said when I saw him in the Stone back home. I've known Saruman was in league with our great foe since we began. He was one of the reasons I was reluctant to leave. But no longer.

"The Fellowship is dead. The sons of Gondor, the Prince of Mirkwood, the bumbling Dwarf. The Hobbits are coming hear as we speak," he informs me arrogantly, grinning "The Ring will be restored to its master. I do not wish to harm you, Princess, but either you embrace its power or embrace your own destruction." I guess that's why he didn't take the Stone; ever the gentlemen!

"Surely you jest. _Wethrinaer, antolle ulua sulrim,_" I raise myself, staggering as I do so but keep my voice steady. I can feel the waves of wind whipping around me. He's here. "_Lle naa haran e'nausalle, utinu en lokirim. Amin feuya ten'lle!_" I scream and give him the coldest glare I can muster. "You disgust me. Go kiss the Orcs you love so much!" I hiss. I hear him roar and I run/limp the short distance to the edge and leap off. As I fall fast, wind ripping at my flesh, I reach into my satchel and hold the Seeing-stone, the Palantír. You know what I hate about these things? There so damn fragile.

I allow the wind to roll me onto my back so my eyes see the sky. As soon as Balanidhren comes into sight, diving to catch me, I use the little strength I have to throw the Palantír. I crash onto Balanidhren's back and roll over. Clutching to his scales, I don't know if I destroyed the cursed Stone or not, but I hear Saruman shout in despair. Perhaps I did?

It doesn't matter though, not now. Balanidhren bears me to safety and I sigh in relief, curling around him. My eyes droop and the last thing I see before I drift off is mountains.

* * *

I open my eyes, immediately moving a hand to block out the sun. I cringe as I strech my good arm, bring it down and place both hands to my wound. Looking around, my eyes adjust to the warmth of sunlight. I see plains of dead grass for miles. The soft earth beneath me is a treat as I lay down again. My body rises and falls with Balanidhren, his tail wrapped around me to keep me protected and warm.

"I am glad you are safe, Leûra," he says and I close my eyes, smiling. I missed his voice, deep and gravely, an unrecognizeable accent. I didn't think of it until now, but his voice reminds me of Gimli, or what he may sound like as he ages. Oddly enough, it's soothing to think of Gimli.

"So am I, _ior-mellon nîn_. So am I." I sigh, content with being with him again. How I ever thought Balanidhren would abandon me to…wait a minute! "How did you find me? The horn, it's gone. How did—?"

"You think I come to you when you use the horn?" he asks, looking down at me, bemused. He begins to laugh, his tail smacking the earth. "My dear friend, I follow you in the clouds and watch over you at all times! I do not wait for the horn to see if you are in trouble! I come when I feel you need me!" I lean against him, trying to stand up but I can't. He sees this and moves his tail under me to push me up.

"You followed me from Rivendell?" I ask, staggering towards his head as blood slowly drips through my hands. He nods and smiles, his golden eyes showing his ageless wisdom.

"Leûra, you are my Tamer – my Knight!" he explains as I stop to look at him. "I will _always_ be watching over and following you. Besides, I heard your screams in the woods, and followed the beasts from there."

I stare at him a moment, caressing his snout. As I do this, he closes his eyes and lowers his head closer to me. He growls contently. I realize that he would have reigned fire down upon the Uruks had myself and companions not been killed with them.

"You must be more careful, my friend. You should have stayed with the other Elf," he scolds.

"I needed to find Pippin and Merry," I retort softly, not really in the mood to argue with him. "I did, and I fought for them. I protected them with Boromir."

"And you were captured with them." He stares me down as a parent would a child, and my hand falls to my side. "Your energy should be restored after sleeping for three days."

"Three days!" I exclaim, staring at him as if he's crazy. I knew I would unconscious for a time, but I didn't expect it to be three days! A few hours at most, but not that long!

"Yes, we are in still close to Isengard, but far enough to be safe. A village just over that hill was burned down by the Wild Men. I landed after they'd left."

"And you did try to help the people?" I ask incredulously.

"The people were dead! The Wild Men were just burning the village for sport," he says solemnly, shaking his head at the ignorance of Man. I can't argue with him there. "There are still a few lingering horses and some food there."

"Thank you, _mellon nîn_." I kiss his snout, rubbing it gently once more.

"Ride to Edoras, home of the Horse Lords, built in the valley of the White Mountains. You should be safe there." I remember the city from my library. When I was a little, I often wondered if the halls were truly of gold. A silly notion from a silly child's mind; at least now I'll find out for myself. "It's three days from here in the East, two if you don't rest."

I watch him fly off as I always do, just to make sure he's safe. Turning back to the path ahead, I limp on and take comfort in knowing that he's watching me. When I reach the top of the hill, wincing in pain, I clearly see the burnt village. White smoke still fills the air. With a heavy heart, I stagger toward the pile of cinder and ash.

Balanidhren made it sound as though I am the only one left of the Fellowship. I don't believe it – I _won't_ believe it! Pippin and Merry may yet be alive. Boromir may be with them. Aragorn is sure to have found Frodo and Sam. Legolas and Gimli will be with him. The Fellowship hasn't failed, not when at least one of us still draws breath.

Where there is life, there is hope.

**Translations:**

Wethrinaer, antolle ulua sulrim: Deceitful one, much wind pours from your mouth.

Lle naa haran e'nausalle, utinu en lokirim: You are king in your imagination, son of snakes (dishonest person)

Amin feuya ten'lle!: Your head is empty!

Ior-mellon nîn: My ancient/old friend

P.S.: Four pages total.


	28. Deliverence

_**Disclaimer: **_I don't own _The Lord of the Rings _or any of its characters. I only own Leûra, Aearion, Undûme, Cassiopeia, Balanidhren, Aefaradien and any other original characters – so no stealing. However, I don't own Cuiviénen. That place belongs to J. R. R. Tolkien, but the stories of it in Chapter 1 and 2 are all mine.

**Chapter 28: Deliverence**

I limp into the destroyed village, avoiding the small fires that are still whisping in the wind. The last thing I need in my present condition is to be burned. Looking around, I try to ignore the smell of burnt flesh, the taste of it lingering in my mouth. So many people – men, woman, children – all killed because of the lies of Saruman. If I ever get the chance, I'll kill him!

Balanidhren was right though, there are a few horses left abandoned, though some are wounded and dying. I can feel their pain as they knicker and neigh in pain, their cries flooding my ears. Bending down to caress one, I wish I could put it out of its misery. But there's no way or time. I have to reach Edoras, soon.

Leaving the black beauty, with a heavy heart and tears staining him, I move towards some scattered apples. An old woman lays near them, one hand draped over them. I can picture her going about her day, peacefully. She was just walking home, the apples in her apron, when smoke and steel invade her life. I can't help but wonder if the bodies scattered around her are her family or friends.

I look up to see a light gray, black spotted horse walk towards me. He's the only one that isn't bleeding or even appears hurt. I actually feel relief seeing him as he moves from a steady walk to a canter towards me. Struggling from my kneel, I rise and he nudges my arm. Laughing, for the first time in a long time, I raise the apple in my hand to his mouth.

"Who are you? Are you a wanderer like me? A lost pilgrim, hm?" I whisper as I stroke his mane. My blood has dried on my hands, but he chews the apple anyway. It's almost as if he's starved and hasn't eaten in months. "Rhandir, that's your name. Rhandir." He knickers as he finishes the apple, dropping the core.

Staring into his dark eyes, I see that he's not afraid. He's completely aware of what's happened and what's lain at his hooves. I smile, knowing that I've made a friend. I pick up two more apples, giving him one as I struggle onto his back. Seeing that I need help, I pull him towards a burnt object. It's so damaged that I can't even tell what it is, but it'll do. I step on it, hearing it creak under my weight, and quickly swing onto Rhandir's back as it falls apart.

We make our way out of the depressing village, bare back and hurting. I push him east and eat the other apple slowly, the juice is refreshing and foregin to my mouth. There are many comforts I've missed during this journey; this apple is one of many. As we ride harder, charging into a gallop, I cling to his mane for support as not to fall. The wind whipping against us is even refreshing and cooling against my wound, which I fear is probably infected by now.

It isn't long until night comes, and I stuggle to stay awake. Everytime I'm near the world of dreams, Rhandir sitrs me with his voice and movement. My stomach growls for food, my tongue for water and my body for rest. Nothing seems real anymore. Not the plains, the stars or even the sound of my heart beat in my throat. Even my thoughts are not my own as I do not think of home or Aearion, but of the Hobbits and, strangely, Legolas. I fear for them, and pray the Valar keep them until I have strength to find them.

My eyes squint under the light of the rising sun. I hold up my hand and see a golden building glinting not that far in the distance. I've only a short ways to go until I reach the city of Edoras. I kick Rhandir's sides and push him harder towards our delieverence. He responds quickly and we take off across the vast plains. I feel as though I'm smiling, but I cannot even feel my face against the breeze.

We finally stop in front of the tall standing gates, and my heart drops into my stomach as a sudden wave of nausea comes over me. I look up to the guard on watch and see him call to someone, but I can't hear him. I run a hand through my hair before I feel the familiar cold sweat grace my temple. The dark gates are swung open, and I do not enter. Two men, armored and spears in hand, greet me. Behind them I find a broad path, paved with hewn stones, winding upward, and climbing in short flights of well-laid steps.

"Stay where you are, or die where you stand!" One of them men, with long blonde hair and threatening eyes, shouts. They edge closer to me, never lowering their spears, as I feel all gravity leave me; I feel as though I'm falling as I see their figures sway.

"I come s…" My breath is short and voice is weak. I've never felt like this before. What's happening to me? "…S-Seeking refuge from the Wh-White…Wizard." Coughs suddenly rack my chest as my world becomes black, and I fall from Rhandir. I hear him neigh and stomp on the ground, and armor clattering before everything becomes dark yet again.

_**A/N: **_I _just_ figured this out! Since Cassiopeia, Leûra and Aearion's mother, was alive and gave birth to Leûra during the first war against Sauron, in which Elrond fought and you see at the very beginning of the movie, Leûra is about nine-hundred to a good thousand years old. I never thought about it before now!

Also, since I really liked the relationship I developed between Leûra and Boromir, I'm going to have her preborn esssence come into play and you'll see him again. Much later on, but you'll see him again.

P.S.: Three pages total.


	29. Deep Sleep Dreaming

_**Disclaimer: **_I don't own _The Lord of the Rings _or any of its characters. I only own Leûra, Aearion, Undûme, Cassiopeia, Balanidhren, Aefaradien and any other original characters – so no stealing. However, I don't own Cuiviénen. That place belongs to J. R. R. Tolkien, but the stories of it in Chapter 1 and 2 are all mine.

**Chapter 29: Deep Sleep Dreaming**

"_Higher, __Balanidhren__! Higher!" I shout, giddy that I'm finally flying for the first time. Aearion mutters a command in Elvish, smiling at me, and __Balanidhren__ takes off at full speed. Below, we can hear Ada yelling at us to be careful. We pay no mind though as Aearion mutters a few more commands, and __Balanidhren__ starts to spin in the air. _

**That was so long ago…it seems like forever. ****Balanidhren**** wouldn't even listen to me then…he wouldn't even look at me…**

"_Leûra, there are many rules to flying a Drake," Aearion tells me, the curious prankster. How I love to torture my war worn brother! "But the most important is to never fly to the top of our dome."_

"_Why?" I ask, look up at him as he stresses this one rule – again._

"_Because, you are not yet ready. One day you will be, but not now." I stop to ponder this as he walks ahead of me. "Besides," he says, stopping to look back at me with a surprisingly childish gleam, "you'd probably kill yourself, and the rest of us with you." He laughs heartily, running away since he's had his fun, and I take off down the after him._

…**He was so mean to me when it came to the Drakes. He loved to tease me. Always thought he was better; but I am, and he knows it…Aearion, how I wish we could go back to our simple lives…**

_I laugh, shaking oats out of my hair, at how stubborn Aearion can be at times. Just because I beat him in a race above the city, doesn't mean he has to throw oats at me. Horses no longer reside here, but their fed remains. No matter, the horse carcasses are good food for the Drakes. There are so many; they continue to breed and will continue to last the Drakesa long time! _

_As I pass father's study, something catches my ear. Crying? Someone's crying? No, it can't be! Gently, I pull the enormous door open without making a sound. Peeking inside, one eye through the small slit I've made, I see it. Ada is crying over the Stone! He told us he destroyed it! He said it no longer resided here! How could he do this? Why would he do this? Only danger can come of it!_

_I slowly close the door as Ada rises and dries his tears. I listen, one ear against the door, and wait until he's gone. Once one of the other two doors in the room close, I open the door and burst into the room. Walking over to the Stone, I eye it carefully. How could Ada cry over such a thing?_

_Voices? I hear voices all around me in a tongue I can't comprehend. It's faint, but it's there. It sounds like…the Black speech? But, that's impossible! Unless…Sauron is…only one way to find out. With every ounce of courage I have, I stride towards the Stone and place a hand on it._

"_Ah!" I gasp as images flash before me._

_Cities of gargantuan proportions, across plains and fields, built up along mountains – all burning. Orcs and Goblins sweep across the earth, burning it to the ground and staining it with blood. Wargs patrol the land, killing men on horses at will. A Kraken strangling a little boy in the dead of night. Oliphaunts marching through secluded woods, their masters whipping them onward. Fell Beasts screeching over swamps and a vast field where bodies lay, a great battle taking place. _

_A White Wizard edges closer to a Grey Wizard, who is now trapped within the black onyx reading room. The White Wizard asks the other if he seriously thought that a Hobbit could contend with the will of Sauron. He adds, rather confidently that there are none who can; that against the power of Mordor, there can be no victory – that they must join him, it would be most wise, calling him friend._

"_Tell me, "friend," when did Saruman the Wise abandon reason for madness?" The Grey Wizard sneers with all the hatred to rival the fires of Mount Doom. Saruman shouts, taking his staff and using it against his enemy, who falls to the floor._

_An Elven Lord stands in armor with Elves and Men, fighting near a mountain under a black sky of ash. I hear him shout, "Isildur!" A clear blue sky set over a circle of Men, Elves, Dwarves and a little boy. The Elf-Lord from before is amoungst them! They speak of Mordor! Nine men, all of different race, stand together before him proudly but wary of the unfamiliar strangers around them._

_Those men fade away in a gust of wind as a woman, lying on a bed, comes into view. Walking towards it I see it's me. What is going on? How can I be seeing myself sleeping? Taking another hesitant step, I reach out and touch my hand. I recoil as quickly as I touch; my skin is cold as ice. I'm dead. How? An Elf suddenly moves past me and sits on the edge of the bed, running a hand over my head soothingly. Who is he? My body and the man suddenly disappear, consumed in a burst of flames. _

_An eye, its pupil slit like a Drakes, stares at me. It is wreathed in flames, burning the very air I breath. This can't be…the Eye! Sauron!_

_I remove my hand so suddenly that the Stone moves from its pedestal. It falls to the floor, just as I dive and catch it. I hear the tiniest sound against the stone floor, the Eye flashing into my mind again. As soon as the pain dissipates, I check the Stone. Oh, Valar! I cracked it! I didn't think it was possible, but I cracked it! Looking at the other two doors, listening for hurried steps, I place the Stone within my satchel. The heavy and fatal paperweight slides in perfectly. Since there is no indication that Ada has heard the Stone's tumble, I run out of the study to ponder what to do._

…**That happened just before I spoke to Aearion, before he told me to leave. Damn Sauron! Damn Ada! I hate you both! So many people have suffered because of you…**

"_I am a servant of the Secret Fire, Wielder of the Flame of Anor. The dark fire will not avail you, Flame of Udûn!" The monster pulls out a brimstone sword and Gandalf holds up his staff, which continues to glow its radiant white light. The Balrog thrashes its sword down to strike Gandalf, but his staff's light throws it back. Amazing, he is more powerful than I thought. "Go back to the Shadow," he hisses as the Balrog steps onto the bridge. I can clearly see the bridge cracking as Gandalf takes a step back. The beast now wields a fiery whip. "YOU! SHALL NOT! PASS!" _

_He smashes his staff into the bridge, the white light glowing brighter as the Balrog steps again. The bridge suddenly begins to break under its feet! I sigh in relief as the monster falls into darkness and Gandalf turns to face us. Some of us, including myself, are smiling at his success. I have never seen magic first hand, but it is truly a sight to behold! Gandalf truly is the greatest Istar there is. _

"_Fly, you fools," Gandalf tells us before letting go of the ledge._

…**Gandalf…Mithrandir…**

_Boromir continues to cut through the hordes of Orcs with no problem, not even noticing Lurtz stretch his bow and take aim. The arrow is released, and lodges itself within Boromir's left shoulder. The Hobbits and I watch as he staggers backwards in shock, all of us calling to him fearfully. I hold them back as Boromir drops to his knees, his face etched with pain and what seems like relief. I can hear his breath grow hard as the Uruks come closer. But he isn't down long before he got up and continues to fight, giving a battle cry, and killing anything that comes near him_

_Lurtz cocks the bow and shoots Boromir a second time, this time just above his hip. Boromir falls to his knees again, and looks up at the three of us for a moment. I'm completely frightened and frozen to the spot. I can feel my blood running cold. What do I do? What about Pippin and Merry? _

_Black blood covers my hands…_

_I whip around only to have my heart clench to see Boromir. Another arrow has decided to grace him, close to his heart. I try to run at him…_

_Shouts soon come to my ears and I look up with more effort than I should. What is that? Those figures? No…it can't be…Pippin? Merry? It is them! Their running down the hill, swords in hand, to protect their would-be saviors._

_Before Pippin and Merry can even swing their swords, they're caught by their throats. As I watch them struggle to break free, they scream their lungs out calling mine and Boromir's names__._

_The darkness is becoming greater as I look up even further and see Boromir. Lurtz has walked back over to him, unstrapped his bow and is taking aim…_

…**Boromir…Pippin…Merry…**

_Frodo stands upon the pale grey shore, staring into the distance, with the Ring lying in his open palm. He looks as though he ponders something before a confident look comes over him. Frodo closes his hand over the Ring, and puts it into his vest pocket. He pushes a boat into the river and jumps in just as Sam emerges from the woods and runs after him, running into the river after Frodo. _

_Frodo, hearing the splashes, looks back. He tells Sam to go back, that he's going to Mordor alone. Sam says of course he is, and that he's going with him as he struggles to swim towards his best friend. Frodo stiffens and shouts out, incredulously, that Sam can't swim, shocked by his friend's actions. Sam struggles to swim some more before sinking into the water and out of sight. Frodo paddles the boat back and reached down into the freezing water. Chills go up his spine as he grabbed Sam's wrist. He feels Sam tighten his hand around his, pulls him out of the water and up into the boat._

"_I made a promise! "Don't you leave him, Samwise Gamgee." And I don't mean to! I don't mean to." Frodo smiles at his dear friend, and they hug one another more tightly then ever before. Sam could have died and Frodo felt so foolish to think he could leave and Sam wouldn't follow. As they seperate, both smiling confidently, they begin to paddle towards the eastern shore. None of the others within hearing range or sight._

…**Frodo…Sam…where do you go alone? Have you left us?**

_Aragorn is lying down with his ear pressed to the ground. He opens his eyes, saying that the Uruks pace has quickened. He yells behind him to someone to hurry, noting that the enemy must have caught their scent. He runs off, followed by Legolas and Gimli. Legolas shouts back to Gimli to hurry, who is complaining about the lack of rest and food. The three of them run across plains, entering a valley._

_The companions enter the valley even further, and Aragorn bends down to pick up something he sees embedded into the ground. He inspected it, commenting that the leaves of Lórien do not fall idly. Legolas stops and turns to look at Aragorn, smiling as he says they may yet be alive. Aragorn rises and states that the enemey is less than a day ahead of them. Gimli stumbles and rolls to the ground suddenly. Legolas calls back to the Dwarf that they are gaining on them and takes off again. Gimli complains some more, saying Dwarves are natural sprinters, and very dangerous over short distances. The three of them come over a hill and pause, gazing across the vast corn colored plains._

…**Legolas…Aragorn…Gimli – the three hunters. At least they were not captured, but where are they? Wait, I know that valley. I was there when the three Uruk-hai carried me to Saruman! Aragorn and the others are so close! If only I'd stayed! Where is the help we need?**

"Quel fara, mellonamin. Lissenen ar' maska'lalaith tenna' lye omentuva,_" he says, clasping my arm like he did with Legolas when we first met._

…**Haldir, he is a good man, a good friend. I miss him already…strange…**

"Lle naa belegohtar. Ta nae amin saesa, Haldir,_" I compliment him with a smile. Standing there for a moment, a little awkwardly, I finally decide it's time to leave._

_Before I move to Legolas, I wrap my arms around Haldir's neck and hug him. He responds, wrapping his arms around my back a little unsure of himself. I suppose he's not used to such contact. We seperate and nod our farewells…_

…**It's so strange that our short time together made us fast friends. It took months for me to trust any of the Fellowship. Will I ever see them again? What about Haldir? Where are they now?**

…_Rain pours down on Elves and Men as they battle an army of Uruks and Orcs. Haldir kills a great many of them that try to surround him. He looks around, hearing his name being called. Aragorn comes into view, telling him to order the retreat. Haldir opens his mouth the speak, but is silent as he feels excrusiating pain in his back. He looks down and sees an enemy sword potruding through his chest. The pain leaves as he falls to his knees, his eyes trailing over all of his fallen comrades. He hears Aragorn, sounding garbled and distant, then more pain as his body shakes forward. The pain passes, cold settles in and he falls back into the arms of Aragorn as he closes his eyes…_

…**That can't be real. That hasn't happened; it won't happen! But...I wonder, will it? Will ever see Haldir again?**

"_I would learn to trust your companions soon." Galadriel's words hit me like an arrow, and I whip around only to see the Queen's back._

"_Why? Has the Mirror shown you something?" Galadriel can obviously hear the fear in my voice, but she doesn't turn to face me or even show a sign that she has heard me. "Tell me!"_

…**She never awnsered…not really. Is this what she meant? **

"_The Prince of Mirkwood looks after you…do you care for him? You cannot lie. I know the truth within your heart." I don't answer for a moment, but look into the old elleth's eyes, which are staring at me from their corners._

"_He is not unpleasant to my eyes…"_

…**Legolas…**

"Legolas…" Why I mutter his name, I don't know, but it feels right as I feel myself return to the world of the living. Lucky me.

_**A/N: **_This was originally the opening for the next chapter, but the whole thing came out too long. I thought I'd spare you and seperate them. XD

P.S.: Six pages total.


	30. Of Horse Lords and Shieldmaiden

_**Disclaimer: **_I don't own _The Lord of the Rings _or any of its characters. I only own Leûra, Aearion, Undûme, Cassiopeia, Balanidhren, Aefaradien and any other original characters – so no stealing. However, I don't own Cuiviénen. That place belongs to J. R. R. Tolkien, but the stories of it in Chapter 1 and 2 are all mine.

**Chapter 30: Of Horse Lords and Shieldmaiden**

"Legolas…" Why I mutter his name, I don't know, but it feels right as I feel myself return to the world of the living. Lucky me.

"Oh! You're awake!" I look up to see a woman, small in frame and face with golden locks. She smiles and turns to a maid next to her, ordering her to summon her brother and cousin. As the maid leaves, I sit up with this womans help since the pain in my side still remains. "I am Èowyn, Shieldmaiden of Rohan. You gave my brother and cousin quite a scare when you fell from your horse. They had not seen your injury." At that moment two men in armor walk in; they must be Èowyn's family.

"My Lady Elf, I am Èomer, son of Èomund. This is mine and my sister's cousin, Théodred, son of Théoden, King of Rohan." I nod to each as Èowyn sits in the chair next to my bed.

"I am Leûra Ithilelen, daughter of Undûme, Lord of Cuiviénen, Leader of the Dragon Knights," I reply, my eyes close tight as I try to push away the pain in my head.

""Dragon Knights"?" Èowyn breathes and I look to see her smiling, glancing at her brother with an excited gleam. "Our uncle used to tell us stories of your kind when we were children. We thought you a myth!"

"I assure you, we are very real." And slowly dying out as well. "Is this Edoras?"

"It is," Théodred answers with a proud nod. "Before you passed out, you claimed you sought refuge from the White Wizard. May I ask what a lady of your stature was doing with the Wizard?"

"Escaping," I say, countering his suspicious tone. "I was once in a group of ten that set out from Rivendell. One fell in Moria, the others I know naught of. We were in the woods near the Anduin River, and were attacked by a pack of Uruk-hai. I was captured with three others of my group; two Hobbits of the Shire and Boromir of Gondor."

"The Steward Denethor's son?" Èomer questions, hate leaving his voice as he speaks the Stweard's name. I only nod, assuming that this Denethor is indeed Boromir's father. Then again, how many Boromir's could there be in Gondor? "We've heard of your quest, though cannot tell you any news of your companions. We know nothing of them." I sigh heavily, hanging my head. I had hoped the Lords here would have news of my friends. I assumed they would since Balanidhren told me to come here.

"Do not despair," Théodred says kindly, and I look up at him with more hope than I should bear. "You are more than welcome in my father's halls until your wounds have healed, Lady Elf."

"Thank you." I note on their faces and stares at me. Have they not seen and Elf before? Surely they have!

Leaving those thoughts behind, they tell me that they are taking care of Rhandir in their stables. I had almost forgot about him! It gladdens me to know that he his well and safe. As the men leave, Èowyn tells me that food will be brought to me soon. I thank her again as she leaves, most likely to speak with her brother and cousin.

I lay back in the bed, my head hitting the soft pillow. Pillows – a comfort, like the apples, I've long since forgotten. While I close my eyes, relaxing in the bliss behind my head, my fingers go to my left arm. I push up the sleeves of my dirty shirt to inspect my first war wound: the arrow through my forearm. It has almost completely healed as a scar begins to form, but a bandage is still needed unfortunately. Pushing away the blankets for a moment, I lift my shirt to look at my right side. The healers here have kindly stitched and cleaned the wound. Infection doesn't seem to be a problem like I originally thought during my insomniactic state.

A maid enters, closing the wooden doors with a loud thump, with a tray of food. My stomach practically screams and jumps for joy at the sight of food. I can almost hear the Hobbits' voices and their cheery laughter. Food! Not Lembas, but _real_ food! Something I have not had since I left Lothlórien nearly a week ago…or has it been two?

P.S.: Two pages total.


	31. Threatening Halls

_**Disclaimer: **_I don't own _The Lord of the Rings _or any of its characters. I only own Leûra, Aearion, Undûme, Cassiopeia, Balanidhren, Aefaradien and any other original characters – so no stealing. However, I don't own Cuiviénen. That place belongs to J. R. R. Tolkien, but the stories of it in Chapter 1 and 2 are all mine.

_**A/N:**_ I paraphrased some of this chapter from _TTT_ book, "The King of the Golden Hall". So I don't really own those parts, sorta.

**MY FIRST BAD REVIEW FOR THIS FIC (I was so frakking excited!):**

non-Christian: Yes, I know that Elrond was never at Cuiviénen. I know that Helcar was lost before the first War of the Ring, before the Two Trees and Galadriel returned to Middle-earth from Valinor where she was born. I know that Elrond and his brother were born in Belariand before it fell. If you believe that my writing has failed on "so many levels from square one" that you "won't bother to continue", then that's okay with me. It's your choice entirely! Thanks for being honest, but I think you took this _too_ literally. It's a fanfic, an _AU_ fic! You're ment to bend the truth! But I respect your opinion nonetheless, and thank you again.

**Chapter 31: Threatening Halls**

I wake up, feeling the best I have since I arrived in Edoras about a week ago. The air is cold, but I don't mind. Pushing back the covers of the bed I've occupied since my arrival, I step onto the ice cold floor. Again, I'm not bothered by this. Perhaps it's because I'm used to the cold? I mean, I did enjoy Caradhras, for the most part anyway.

I make my way to the narrow vertical window and look outside. The stars blink majestically, winking at me as the moon hides behind the clouds. The sky is fading from an assortment of purple and blue to golden colors as the sun rises. I never took the time before, I never had it before. In fact, I never really paid attention. Burning rays of orange and red melt into softer hues of gold. Even indigo and pink play together as the light peeks over the horizon.

I hear footsteps beyond my door; they're soft, but still echo throughout the halls. The door creaks open and shuts just the same. My visitor releases a gasp as I they see me not in bed. Èowyn, always worrying. She really needs to relax. Looking at her, I smile at her astonished face.

"You are feeling better than, I take it?" She returns my smile, laughing a bit as she walks towards me.

"Much. My wounds have healed a great deal in my days here. Your healers have my thanks."

"I'm sure our healers are not as good as your people, but they did their best," she explains, stopping in frontof me.

"Their best was enough."

"I'll be sure to tell them that," she comments graciously, looking out the window as well with a deep sigh of content.

"I was wondering, since I'm in good health, do you think it would be possible to see your city?" She looks at me curiously, not sure what to say. "From outside the infirmary?" I say, rephrasing my question, and smile as she protests. "What say you, Théodred?" Èowyn's jaw drops a bit before she looks at the door. There her cousin stood, dead in his tracks, just as surprised as she is.

"I say that is quite possible," he answers easily, continuing to walk towards us and stopping next to his doting cousin. "I will give you the tour myself while Èowyn prepares a proper room for you."

"That's not necessary," I argue, holding Èowyn back as she prepares to leave.

"You are our guest, Leûra. You will be treated as such," Théodred states regally and Èowyn gives me an almost reassuring smile, taking her leave. Sighing, I look back at Théodred and laugh as I see him holding his arm out for me. "Come! You have much to see." I take his arm, sobering up, and we walk out of the infirmary.

As we step into the hall, the people milling about stop and look at us. I try to ignore them, but it's rather hard. Their eyes burn into me and it's making me very uncomfortable. I feel like I'm under Galadriel's eyes again! How can mortals intimidate me so? I look up at Théodred to ask him why the people stare at us, but he says that an Elf has never graced their halls – at least, not to his knowledge. He explains the old alliance and how it was broken and, even though I already know about it, I stay silent. Finally, with more effort than I first thought, I decide to ignore the stares. Let them look if it pleases them. I'm much more interested in the hall we walk down, heading to the stables to Rhandir and Brego, Théodred's horse.

The hall is long and wide and filled with shadows and half lights; mighty pillars uphold its lofty roof. But here and there bright sunbeams fall in glimmering shafts from the eastern windows, high under the deep eaves. Through the louver in the roof above the thin wisps of issuing smoke, the sky is pale and blue. As my eyes change, I can only perceive that the floor is paved with stones of many hues; branching runes and strange devices intertwined beneath my feet. I see now that the pillars are richly carved, gleaming dully with gold and half-seen colors.

As we step into the morning light, I'm grateful that there aren't as many people out. I note that many houses are built of wood, and many dark doors are housed here. It makes me wonder if these people have any joy in their lives. We reach the stables and saddle our horses, all the while I grin at how excited Rhandir is. He either wants another apple, or he's just happy to see me. Either way, I'm happy to see him alive and well. Then again, this is the home of Horse Lords.

Beside the gate entrance a stone channel and stream of clear water flows, sparkling and chattering. At length we came to the crown of a hill. There stood a high platform above a green terrace, at the foot of which a bright spring gushed from a stone carved in the likeness of a horse's head; beneath was a wide basin from which the water spilled and fed the falling stream.

Up the green terrace went a stair of stone, high and broad, and upon the topmost step were stone-hewn seats. There sat other guards, with drawn swords laid upon their knees. From far away, and in a better state of health, this place is truly beautiful. It's not Rivendell or Cuiviénen, but it is beautiful all on its own. I can now understand why the mortals here are so wary of strangers.

"You have a beautiful home, Prince Théodred. I envy you," I admit with a wistful sigh, overlooking his vast plains and home from afar.

"An Elf envies me?" he asks, shocked but amused and I look to see him smirking. "I am honored."

"Do not take it to heart, _mellon nîn_, it does not happen often," I warn him teasingly, looking back at the plains. He asks me mellon nîn means, confused by my use of my tongue. "It means "my friend"."

"We are friends?" he asks, confused beyond belief. Are all mortal Men as ridiculous as Legolas and Aragorn? As the Hobbits and Gimli?

"You saved my life, welcomed me openly, and have treated me with more kindness than I can _ever_ repay. Of course we are friends!" I laugh at him, and he soon joins and apologizes for his foolishness.

"Why do you envy me?" he asks as we begin to head back to Edoras at a slow pace. "You said you envy me, why?"

"I envy you because you have done what I could not." I look at him, hoping I don't have to elaborate but I do. "You have protected your home from something I could not. I have failed where you have succeeded."

"You have never truly failed until you stop trying." Looking into Rhandir's mane, I can't help but wonder if he's right. I mean, is that true? Or is that just his optimism shining through?

* * *

It is well into the day now, and the tour has ended. Théodred prepares to go on a hunt with Èomer. I asked to come, but Èomer was completely against it. He says I shouldn't aggravate my wound too much. Èowyn and Théodred agreed with him, so I've opted to stay behind. They're only looking after me, doing what they think is right. Instead of fighting today, I'll continue to rest and ride. I need to speak with Balanidhren anyway. I have so many questions, and they need to be answered – now.

"I had heard an Elf was in our midst, but I did not dare to believe it." I turn the see the owner of the dangerously silky voice. I hold back a gasp at the sight of the man. "May I inquire as to what an Elf is doing in Rohan? So far from home?"

"Healing," I reply as I glare at the man, if a man is what you could call him, with utter contempt.

"I see." He cracks a smile, looking pained as he does as if he never has before. Now that I think about it, I doubt he has. "Well, I shall inform the king of your presence. He'll be most…_surprised_ by the news." He bows lowly, mocking me in the worst way possible and leaves.

"I don't trust him," I say Èowyn, who I heard come up behind me as the snake left the hall. Surprisingly enough, the hall became less cold as he left.

"None of us do," she stated, standing beside me. "But he is Uncle's advisor. Believe me, if any of us could make him leave, we would." We walk towards the doors that lead back outside, and I ask her why they don't. "Uncle is…not well," she explains rather hesitantly. "He only speaks to Gríma now."

"I don't still trust him. Or like him for that matter." She laughs, saying neither she, her brother or cousin do either. At least I am not alone…not really.

P.S.: Four pages total.


	32. Through the Motions

_**Disclaimer: **_I don't own _The Lord of the Rings _or any of its characters. I only own Leûra, Aearion, Undûme, Cassiopeia, Balanidhren, Aefaradien and any other original characters – so no stealing. However, I don't own Cuiviénen. That place belongs to J. R. R. Tolkien, but the stories of it in Chapter 1 and 2 are all mine.

**Chapter 32: Through the Motions**

Èomer and Théodred are still out hunting, and Èowyn is busying herself with only Valar knows what. Most likely, she's practicing with her unused sword against an unseen enemy. Now that I know this land better and know that the women aren't allowed to fight, I think I would hate to live here. I wouldn't be able to watch my father or brother leave to fight without me. I wouldn't be able to sit back, and wait for their return or news of their deaths.

As these thoughts race through my mind, I push Rhandir harder across the plains. I can feel his heart pound with mine as the wind whips around us. His hooves beat into the ground leaving an unmarked trail. When I finally slow down, I dismount and feed him an apple. Taking a quick scan of the scenery, I make sure we're a good distance away from Edoras or its villages.

"I need to talk to you! So if you can hear me, show yourself!" I call upward towards the sky. I wait a moment, listening for the familiar flap of wings, but it doesn't come. "Balanidhren, please! I _really_ need to talk to you!"

"What's wrong?" I scream at his voice, clutching my chest, and turn to see him behind me. How did he do that? How didn't I hear him? Forget it, it's not important. At least he's here. "Has something happened?"

"No, nothing's happened…and that's the problem." He looks at me curiously and I move to calm Rhandir down. I stroke his main as I stare up at Balanidhren's amber eyes. "Why did you tell me to go to Edoras?"

"It was the closest city I saw that I knew you would be safe in," he states with a casually tone, laying down on all fours.

"So it wasn't because of the Fellowship? You didn't think that I could gain information on their whereabouts there?" I ask, shaking my head with a somber voice.

"Well…no, not exactly," he admita hesitantly and my heart drops.

"Well this is just great," I remark sarcastically, and his confusion returns. He honestly takes things too literally sometimes. "I'm trapped in a city of mortal men, with no way to contact my friends – much less know if they're alive!"

"Your friends?" he echoes and I stare at him incredulously.

"Yes! My friends! Pippin, Merry, Legolas, Ara…oh." I sigh, stopping my small rant as realization hits me. "Did you just trick me, _ior-mellon nîn_?"

"Yes, but only to open your eyes to the truth," he explains with a monstrous laugh. "You are a wise elleth, Leûra, but you can be so blind sometimes!" I roll my eyes slightly, sighing heavily as I nod at him. I hate it when he's right.

"How am I going to find them? Will you carry me?"

He shakes his head, forcefully telling me, "I cannot."

"Cannot or will not?" I ask harshly, gazing at him but he doesn't respond so I lash out at him. "If you will not help me, then what is the point of staying here? Galadriel told me what I already knew! My mission, if it ever was one, is complete!"

"I don't understand. What are you saying?" he asks, rising and walking closer to causing Rhandir to back up a bit. I don't care though, I'm too angry with him!

"I'm saying that there's nothing more I can do here, and I wish to go home! _That_ is what I am saying!" I yell at him, trying to sound reasonably.

"No, you cannot do that! I won't let you!" he argues, shaking his head at me and pounding one of his clawed feet into the ground. Now he sounds like Aearion!

"Who are you to tell me what I can and cannot do!" I shout at him, leaving Rhandir's side to face Balanidhren. His neck straightens as I glare at him, tears lining my eyes. "You are an animal! An animal, which_ I _command! And I command you to take me home!" He stares down at me in shock. His silence is like a drum pounding in my head. My face becomes hot yet cold, flushed as I feel my lips tremble. "Do it!" I shout, running up to him and hitting his side repeatedly. "Do it, do it, do it! Take me home! Please! Take me home!" My tears fall to the ground as I drop to my knees. I cover my face in shame before him. I don't understand. What's happening to me?

"I am sorry, Leûra, but I have to go. I have to leave you alone. You need to calm down, and think things through." I look up to see him turn away and spread his wings.

"No!" I rise to my feet and run in front of him to block his path. As I press against his enormous chest, holding him back, I feel his wings drop. "No! Please! Don't leave me! Don't leave me alone! I don't want to be alone anymore!"

"Is that what's wrong? You're afraid I'll leave you?" he asks incredulously, using one of his claws to make me look at him. Looking up at him, I see he's no longer angry but sympathetic so I nod. "And I thought Aearion was crazy. You are being ridiculous!"

"What is so ridiculous about it? Naneth left me for Valar, Ada for Sauron, and Aearion has left for our people. Gandalf and the others, all of them have abandoned me. I cannot lose you, too!" More tears fall from my eyes as I begin to calm down, and I lean against him in a hug. "I'm fading. I can feel it," I whisper in despair.

"As long as you stay strong and fight, you will not fade," he assures me, but I honestly don't believe him. "You have me, and I will _never _abandon you."

"Go," I say, backing away from him, but he protests. "No, go. I think I just needed to get it out. I'll be fine, I promise." I walk away from him and to Rhandir, who has calmed down considerably. Looking back at him, I don't feel any better. My heart still aches, my lungs burn and all my nerves stand on end.

"Don't do anything foolish," he warns and I give him half a smile. He nods and takes off. Normally, I would watch him fly off into the cover of the clouds, but I can't today. Turning away from my old friend, I mount Rhandir and ride off towards Edoras.

**Translations:**

Ior-mellon nîn: my ancient/old friend

P.S.: Three pages total.


	33. Fatal Allies

_**Disclaimer: **_I don't own _The Lord of the Rings _or any of its characters. I only own Leûra, Aearion, Undûme, Cassiopeia, Balanidhren, Aefaradien and any other original characters – so no stealing. However, I don't own Cuiviénen. That place belongs to J. R. R. Tolkien, but the stories of it in Chapter 1 and 2 are all mine.

**Chapter 33: Fatal Allies**

I pull Rhandir to a halt as I spy a group of horsemen ride across the plain. It must be Èomer and Théodred. They're back from the hunt early though. They were not expected back until late this night. Why is Théodred not on Brego? Where is he? I kick Rhandir's sides and speed off towards them, catching up almost as soon as I leave.

"Oh, Valar! Théodred!" Èomer halts for a moment so I can inspect his wound. How I wish Aragorn was here! He is a much better healer than I. Actually, I barely know anything about the art; I never took the time to learn it. Damn! "We must hurry and get him to Èowyn. Her skills will be of better use."

"My thoughts exactly," Èomer replies and we ride off towards the gates at full speed.

Èomer dismounts with me, and we both pull Théodred from the horse. He's so heavy that we both must carry him with help from Déodred. As the two carry him inside, I rush behind them. The onlookers gasp and cry out Théodred's name as we pass. They mourn him before he's even – no! He's not dead yet! Èowyn will heal him! She will save him! She must! How I ever thought I was alone. Balanidhren was right, I am ridiculous!

The doors to the sickeningly familiar infirmary were opened with a harsh kick from Èomer. No time for pleasantries right now. Èomer and Déodred run over to the closest bed, and the healers immediately prepare Théodred. They remove his armor and tunic, and quickly begin to heal the wound.

"Stop!" Èomer yells at the healers suddenly. "Déodred, summon Èowyn. Bring her here." Everyone listens and I sit down across from Èomer, on the other side of Théodred's bed. I lift up the patch that healers began to make and can't cover my gasp.

"What happened?" I ask, looking up at a very pensive Èomer, and cover him up quickly. Just as he's about to answer, Èowyn enters the chamber.

"Théodred!" she breathes, complete horror in her voice, and kneels in front of the bed next to Èomer. He gives her a meaningful look, and Èowyn drew back the covers and sees what I did: that Théodred's wound is fatal.

"I'm not a healer," I state quietly, tears starting to line my eyes as Èowyn asks me to do something. "There's nothing I can do."

We decide to leave dying Théodred in the care of the healers, and inform the king. As we stand before Théoden, who is sitting motionless on his throne, looking aged beyond his years, I am in awe. I've never seen anything like him before. He looks years beyond his age with dealthy pale skin, his sons now matching, and wirey white hair. His eyes that I'm sure once held life bear none now. They remind me of the glassly surface of my realm. _My_ realm…home…

"Your son is badly wounded, My Lord," Èowyn informs her uncle, fidgeting with her hands and her head hanging low.

"He was ambushed by Orcs," Èomer adds coldly. I can practically feel his and Èowyn's hearts breaking as they speak. Orcs are apparently very common here, but I still can't help but think this is my fault. Saruman must be looking for me, he must still seek revenge on me. "If we don't defend our country, Saruman will take it by force."

"_That _is a lie!" Gríma suddenly appeared from the shadows in the far off corner, and walked towards the king. I notice Èowyn made her exit by now, most likely to be with Théodred. His time is little, he shouldn't die alone. Damn him! "Saruman the White has ever been our friend and ally." Théoden began to mumble feebly to Gríma, who leaned closer to the King. Even with my hearing, I can't make out what he says. What is wrong with this man?

"Orcs are roaming freely across our lands. Unchecked, unchallenged, killing at will. Orcs bearing the white hand of Saruman." Èomer drops a helmet onto the ground. As I watch it roll over, I see it does indeed bear a white handprint on it. Saruman has been very busy as of late.

"Why do you lay these troubles on an already troubled mind?" Gríma states, looking as though he was pained as he stood up and walked towards us. "Can you not see? Your uncle is wearied by your malcontent, your warmongering."

"Warmongering!" Èomer snarls angrily. He could take it no longer, and grabbed Gríma and pushed him against a pillar. I don't even bother to stop him as Gríma cowers in fear; he deserves this. "How long is it since Saruman bought you? What was the promised price, Gríma? When all the men are dead you would take a share of the treasure?" We watch carefully as Gríma's eyes flick to right. Our eyes follow and we see him watching Èowyn as she walks by, who stopped to stare back for a moment before departing with a disgusted look. Èomer looked back at Gríma, anger growing, and jerked him again and clutched his hand around the snake's jaw. "_Too_ long have you watched my sister. _Too _long have you haunted her steps."

Gríma's eyes look to the left and he relaxed suddenly. He looks so smug; I don't understand. What is he so happy about? Èomer will kill him soon enough, and the bane of this place will soon be gone. I'm suddenly pulled away, thrown to the other side of the room. I whip around after regaining my footing, and look up to see Èomer being pulled off Gríma by the guards. What on earth are they doing!

"You see much, Èomer son of Èomund. _Too_ much." Èomer struggles against the guards as I run up to them, only to be held back by my arms by two other guards. "You are banished forthwith from the kingdom of Rohan, and all its domains, under pain of death."

"You have no authority here. Your orders mean nothing," he replies, ceasing his struggle but still very confused.

"This order does not come from me. It comes from the king." Gríma displays an official order with a sunburst seal and a scrawled signature. Both Èomer and I pale at the sight. I have not been here long or know all the ways, but I know that piece of parchment is not good. "He signed it this morning." Èomer shouts in anguish as the guards carry him out and I break away from the arms latched around my own, storming over to Gríma and push him against the pillar by his throat.

"Your time will come, snake," I hiss, "I promise you. You will die screaming." I pause for a moment, getting close enough to his face to hear him breath. I can hear his heart quicken as I glare at him. He's afraid, that's very good. "Screaming," I whisper threateningly.

"I'd learn watch yourself, She-Elf, unless you wish to join your two favorite Horse Lords." He still has a smug look on his face, and I hear the other two guards leave the hall. I am alone with a snake and a broken king, how wonderful! "The king begs you stay in his halls awhile longer. He has missed you, Leûra." Glaring at the sad excuse for a man, I take off across the hall and out the doors. What did he mean? "He has missed me"? Théoden doesn't even know me!

* * *

"Èomer!" I call, running down the stairs. Pushing past people without a care, I try to get to the stables. I call out his name again as I reach the stables. He walks up to me as I take in the sight. The Riders, thirty or so, are mounting up and clad in their armor. "I'm going with you," I tell him as the revelation dawns on me.

"No! Stay with Èowyn! Protect her! I know you can!" I start to protest but he places his hands on my cheeks, stopping me, and looks me in the eye. He stares at me, his breathes short and heavy as he speaks low but fearful. "Protect her from Gríma. Protect the both of you, please!"

"Where will you go?" I ask as he leaves me and goes to his horse.

"I do not know. Those still loyal to Théoden, the _real_ Théoden, travel with me," he states as the rest of his Riders play with their swords, and their horses grow eager.

"So the rumors are true then? Saruman has…infected Théoden?" My heart leaps up into my throat as he nods at me. That must mean that Gríma is a servant of Saruman, and that he knows I'm here now! That's what that traitorious snake meant! Wait. Théodred would be alive now if it wasn't for me. "What are you going to do?"

"We will hunt the Uruk-hai and Orcs, and we will kill them. Every last one of them!" he snarls, his Riders cheering with him, and I can't help but break into a teary smile.

"Go then, and be safe." He looks down at me curiously as he mounts his horse, and passes another horse, Arod, off to the Rider next to him. "Valar protect you, my friend."

"And you." I nod to him, promising without words that I'll keep Èowyn safe. "Riders! We go North!" They cheer again and gallop out of the stables in a wave of deadly spears.

As I leave the stables, I watch them ride out the gates with everyone else. The people soon dissipate as they can no longer bear to watch their protectors and sons leave. I stay though; I stay and watch them ride until they go over the last hill and I can no longer see them.

Hanging my head low, I slowly make my way up to the Golden Hall. As I go in I pass Èowyn whose face is streaked with tears. I place a hand on her shoulder, silently begging her to come back inside. She listens and we walk to the infirmary to clean Théodred together. I hate the silence; it looms over us like cold death, waiting to take us one by one. Let it come. I've nothing left to live for.

P.S.: Four pages total.


	34. King of the Golden Hall

_**Disclaimer: **_I don't own _The Lord of the Rings _or any of its characters. I only own Leûra, Aearion, Undûme, Cassiopeia, Balanidhren, Aefaradien and any other original characters – so no stealing. However, I don't own Cuiviénen. That place belongs to J. R. R. Tolkien, but the stories of it in Chapter 1 and 2 are all mine.

**Chapter 34: King of the Golden Hall**

It has been another five days since Èomer left Edoras, and the joy that never filled this place has only deepened. Èowyn cried for days by Théodred's side; neither of us had the heart to bury him with his ancestors where the simbelmynë grows. No one could bear it since Èomer left. I never thought I would miss a mortal if they died. My heart broke when Gandalf fell; now it's breaking all over again for Théodred.

He was such a good man, and taught me more than I thought I could learn from any mortal. He definitely helped me heal faster with his skills. He even helped me keep up my training. I can't believe I lost Faidwen and Gwiil so short after I received them! What would Galadriel…or I guess Naneth think if she knew? Then again, she probably already does.

Oh! What am I doing? I should be grieving! Why can't I? This makes no sense to me, nothing seems to anymore. Nothing even seems real. The others are dead…they must be otherwise I would have heard something – _anything_ – by now. The Fellowship has failed, it's dead…it's time I returned home.

I quietly leave my room, and walk down the halls carefully. My hearing picks up shouting from the Golden Hall where Théoden sits, lost forever in his perment nightmare prison – a gift from Saruman. I wish there was something I could do, but his cure requires magic which I know naught of. As I pass towards the entrance and my freedom, I hear a strangely familiar voice through a crowd which has gathered. I see no one I recognize, but that voice. Who is that?

"The wise speak only of what they know, Gríma, son of Galmod. A witless worm you have become. Therefore be silent, and keep your forked tongue behind your teeth. I have not passed through fire and death to bandy crooked words with a serving-man till the lightning falls." Someone is else threatening the snake? Good! Valar be with them! I pray they kill him!

Leaving the Golden Hall and stepping down the cold stones, villagers nod their heads in respect to me. At least they no lnger ask questions or fear me. Quickly making my way to the stables, I look for Rhandir but find Brego first. Walking over to him, I find that he allows me to touch him. He has been wild since Théodred's pass, allowing no one near him. Yet, he allows me. Why is that?

"_Sut naa lle umien? Mani marte, hm?_" He snorts and bucks his head, but I continue to scratch his ears all the same. Thédored loved Brego so much. "_Lye nuquernuva sen e dagor, voronwer. Namaarie, Brego._"

Moving away from him, taking a shaky breath, I set up Rhandir for a long journey. I don't wish to leave him behind when I return home. He's my friend now, my companion, and I trust him with my life. And if Aearion even thinks about feeding him to the Drakes, I'll leave again. Perhaps I could stay with Lord Elrond, or Galadriel; she _is_ my mother now, after all.

I'm being ridiculous! Just finish saddling Rhandir, mount up and ride on. I'll speak with Aearion on Galadriel upon my return. I wish Mithrhandir was here though, he would know what to do about Galadriel as my mother. This is too confusing, even for me!

I hear rushed steps and breathing coming my way, so I hide out of my new, and greatly hated, instincts. A horse is quickly prepared and the stranger mutters something about the Dark Lord. Gríma! I rise from my hiding place quickly to confrotn the snake, only to see him leave as quickly as he came. Mounting Rhandir quickly, I ride out of the stables in means to follow him. As I reach the gate, I see Gríma ride Westward across the plains and out of sight. Back to Saruman, no doubt.

"Leûra?"

I grit my teeth and prepare to face the curious, yet oddly familiar voice. I have no time for questions from another villager; I thought I answered all their questions already! Patting Rhandir breifly I look down to my left and…

**Translations:**

Sut naa lle umien? Mani marte, hm?: How are you doing? What happened, hm?

Lye nuquernuva sen e dagor, voronwer: We will defeat them in battle, loyal one

Namaarie, Brego: Farewell, Brego

P.S.: Two pages total.


	35. Bittersweet Reunion

_**Disclaimer: **_I don't own _The Lord of the Rings _or any of its characters. I only own Leûra, Aearion, Undûme, Cassiopeia, Balanidhren, Aefaradien and any other original characters – so no stealing. However, I don't own Cuiviénen. That place belongs to J. R. R. Tolkien, but the stories of it in Chapter 1 and 2 are all mine.

**Chapter 35: Bittersweet Reunion**

"Leûra?" I grit my teeth and prepare to face the curious, yet oddly familiar voice. I have no time for questions from another villager; I thought I answered all their questions already! Patting Rhandir breifly I look down to my left and…Aragorn!

"Aragorn?" He gives a small smile, which I can't help but return before quickly dismounting and hugging him tightly. I can feel my eyes filling with tears as I laugh, despite myself. I can feel Aragorn apprehension about returning my gesture, so I just release him awkwardly. "Boromir! Where is he? And Legolas and Gimli? The Hobbits, are they all right? Did you find Frodo?"

"Boromir has passed," he informs me regretfully, his own pain evident. All I can do sigh sadly and look at the ground. So…that's it. Boromir is dead. If he's dead than surely Pippin and Merry are as well. Saruman was right, the Fellowship _has_ failed! "Merry and Pippin were taken by the Uruks with you, but are now safely with Ents." They're alive? They're alive! Aragorn notices I perk up at that bit of news and smiles. Wait, where are they?

""Ents"? The forest shepherds?" He simply nods, and I soak it in. They are alive, and they're safe. Boromir and I didn't fail them. I hope he knows that. "And Frodo and Sam?"

"As for Frodo and Sam…I cannot tell you if they are well, for they are no longer with us." I pale in confusion, and he hesitantly continues before I can ask any questions. "I…I let them go."

"You…you let them go?" I question him breathlessly, recieve a numb nod in return. H-How? How could he…_why_ did he? "How could you be so stupid! Aragorn, they could die! They could be dead already, and Sauron could have the Ring!"

"Frodo is wise for his age." Paling at the same familiar voice, I look behind Aragorn. No…it's not…how? "And Samwise will look after him. I'm certain the Ring is safe."

"Gandalf?" I ask quietly, still in shock of seeing him. But he's standing there in glorious white robes, nodding at me with his nuturing smile. "No, it's not possible. You're dead…the Balrog." I have to pause for a moment to collect myself, and when I speak my voice comes out darker than wanted. "You fell."

"I can also assure you that I am here before you." Still, he smiles and I reach out a hesitant hand to touch him to see if he's really there. I gasp as I touch his shoulder, and cover my mouth as I laughing through tears.

"It really _is_ you!" Aragorn lets me pass and I can't help but run into Mithrhandir's arms.

As I press my ear to his chest to hear his heart beat, a sound I revel in, his chest rises with hearty laughter. Just the feeling of his arms around me is bliss. Looking up at him again, I see him smile and I feel better. My heart warms at the sight of him, and the pain I've been dealing with these past weeks vanish.

"Glad to see you're alive and well, Lady Elf." Looking over his shoulder, my smile grows at the sight of Gimli and Legolas. "We thought you dead," Gimli informs me.

"Legolas, Gimli…you are well?" They nod, which is actually starting to get a bit annoying. "I never thought I'd see the day I'd be happy to see you, Master Dwarf." The men smile as Gimli releases a gruff laugh, walking closer to me.

"Here you go, lass. Try not to lose them again. I may not be around next time to find them." Kneeling down to his level, he hands me Faidwen and Gwiil.

"Thank you, Gimli. Thank you_ so _much." Cataching him off guard, I pull him into a tight hug. I hear him grunt in surprise then laugh and pat my back. After releasing him, I kiss his cheek, making him stutter embarassedly as I rise and turn my gaze to a smirking Legolas. Valar, I'm so happy to see him! I missed him so much! Why is that?

"The Uruks split up on their way to Isengard. Where did they take you?" Business as usual, I see. Hopeful, that will change but…

"Straight to Isengard as quickly as possible since they thought I was dead. I remember them mentioning smelling Man-flesh?" I turn to look at Aragon and he smiles, confirming my suspicions. "But I was at Isengard for a short time until I escaped to here."

"How did you escape?" Gandalf asks curiously thought gazing at me knowingly. "Why did Saruman want you alive?"

"I-I…I don't know," I lie, wishing I could tell them but I can't. They wouldn't understand, maybe Gandalf would but not the others.

"_Princess Leûra Ithilelen of Cuiviénen." I look up and see the White Wizard himself, clad in robes no longer fit for him and staff in hand. "Lady of the Helcar Sea and Tamer of Dragons." He's mocking me. I stare at him with all the hatred I've carried since this joureny began. He simply smiles and walks over to me, slowly as if to taunt me. "I know you have the Palantír. My Lord has told me so. Give it to me."_

"_You b…betrayed us all," I choke out, clutching my side wound one more. "Y-You betrayed Middle-earth…Gandalf."_

"_Against the power of Mordor, there can be no victory. You must join with him…like your father."_

"_You p-poisoned my father's mind w-with your magic! W-With the Stone!" I shout, writhing in even more pain. My throat and lungs burn, most likely from when Lurtz strangled me._

"_Your father joined willingly at the final battle after he discovered the Palantír, after he saw its power," he states, stopping in the center of Orthanc as I rest my body against a pillar and try to stand. "You must join with Sauron. It would be wise, My Lady."_

"_And tell me, "My Lord", when did Saruman the Wise abandon reason and friendship for blood and war?" I quote what I believe Gandalf said when I saw him in the Stone back home. I've known Saruman was in league with our great foe since we began. He was one of the reasons I was reluctant to leave. But no longer._

"_The Fellowship is dead. The sons of Gondor, the Prince of Mirkwood, the bumbling Dwarf. The Hobbits are coming hear as we speak," he informs me arrogantly, grinning "The Ring will be restored to its master. I do not wish to harm you, Princess, but either you embrace its power or embrace your own destruction." I guess that's why he didn't take the Stone; ever the gentlemen!_

"_Surely you jest. _Wethrinaer, antolle ulua sulrim,_" I raise myself, staggering as I do so but keep my voice steady. I can feel the waves of wind whipping around me. He's here. "_Lle naa haran e'nausalle, utinu en lokirim. Amin feuya ten'lle!_" I scream and give him the coldest glare I can muster. "You disgust me. Go kiss the Orcs you love so much!" I hiss. I hear him roar and I run/limp the short distance to the edge and leap off. As I fall fast, wind ripping at my flesh, I reach into my satchel and hold the Seeing-stone, the Palantír. You know what I hate about these things? There so damn fragile._

_I allow the wind to roll me onto my back so my eyes see the sky. As soon as Balanidhren comes into sight, diving to catch me, I use the little strength I have to throw the Palantír. I crash onto Balanidhren's back and roll over. Clutching to his scales, I don't know if I destroyed the cursed Stone or not, but I hear Saruman shout in despair. Perhaps I did? _

_It doesn't matter though, not now. Balanidhren bears me to safety and I sigh in relief, curling around him. My eyes droop and the last thing I see before I drift off is mountains._

"…But I escaped by jumping from the top of the Orthanc, and Balanidhren saved me just before I would've hit the ground. We flew as far as we could before he would've been used for target practice. We landed, and I walked on until I found a village. I took a horse and rode on until I arrived here. The welcome was…interesting." I think back to how Èomer and Théodred threatened to kill me where a stood, but passed out and fell from Rhandir. Laughing bitterly at the thought of Théodred, I begin to stroke Rhandir's mane. "I awoke to find Èowyn tending to my wounds, and I've been here ever since. Maybe two weeks, three at most."

"You are lucky Saruman didn't kill you." I look up from the uninteresting ground and gaze at the old Wizard. I see he looks right through me and smiles shortly, somehow knowing exactly what happened.

P.S.: Four pages total.


	36. Memories and Callings

_**Disclaimer: **_I don't own _The Lord of the Rings _or any of its characters. I only own Leûra, Aearion, Undûme, Cassiopeia, Balanidhren, Aefaradien and any other original characters – so no stealing. However, I don't own Cuiviénen. That place belongs to J. R. R. Tolkien, but the stories of it in Chapter 1 and 2 are all mine.

_**A/N: **_For the sake of this flashback, it'll be in Leûra's POV then switch to Aearion's when the flashback ends. Why? I'm simply more used to writing her than him in first person. And, just to remind you, Balanidhren (Bahl-ahn-ee-threnn) means "wise power" and, Aefaradien (Eye-far-ahd-ee-ehn), Aearion's Drake, means "hunting bird".

**Chapter 36: Memories and Callings**

"_Why must I continue to learn to fight with my hands?" I question, aggrivated. "We will never have an enemy down here, nor will we ever be without __Balanidhren or Aefaradien__."_

"_True, but you never know when you will have need of a good right hook," he admonishes, beginning to circle me. "We have been through this lesson many times, gwathel, and, every time, you recieve the same answer. Shouldn't you know that?" he poses to her teasingly, refering, as always, to my preborn state._

"_I'm shaking with laughter," I snap ruefully, a small smile twisting onto my face. "Remember, gwanur, that we have been through these primitive exercises for many years. And, through all those years, you have yet to best me."_

"_Let off, and come at me!" he orders and I dive at him, taking him down in a tackle. I quickly get to my feet, and slam my fist down on Aearion's face as he tries to get to his knees._

_Aearion stands up and tries to backhand me, but I block and he follows through with a round kick to my face. Recovering as quickly as possible, I block his slam to my midsection and counter with an inward cresent kick. Aearion flies against a pillar and I grab him from behind, pulling back into the hallway where we always practice. Ada is not around, nor are the maids and such. They've long been gone._

_All the better. No one is around to complain about the noise._

_I still have a hold on him once we're in the middle of the hall. He likes it when we fight rough since it shows him that I can take care of myself. So, in light of that, I slam my dearest gwanur hard into one of the many closed doors. Aearion faces me just in time to block a bankhand fist I send to him, but I grab the arm that blocked me and send my other fist into his side, backhanding his face in quick succession. I swing him across the hall, accidently slamming him face first into a wall by the open stairwell that leads to the throne room and Ada's study._

_Trying to recover, Aearion raises a knee to my mid-level round kick and then grabs my shoulder. We struggle with each other, both slamming into more closed doors mercilessly. We rebound across the hall, falling into the stairwell where we take a rather unpleasant slide headfirst down the stairs. As soon as we reach the bottom, hurting and worse for the ware, I roll away from him, as he does me, and come up into a fighting stance. _

_No time to worry about the pain vibrating through me, no time while he's still on his feet. No time when I still hold breath and have strength to fight with. No time for cowardice or hesitation. Never hesitate!_

_I launch an attack, but Aearion blocks my strike and counters with a right hook that I duck. I attack again, this time hitting Aearion with several punches to his stomach and head. Aearion somehow manages to catch my arm on the last punch, and slams me against the wall. He throws a fist straight to my head, but I duck at the last instant and his knuckles crack against the wall. I throw myself at him, driving him furthur up the hall and send him across the surface of the floor. _

_Aearion pulls himself up, enraged yet showing restraint, and pulls out a small dagger. He attacks me, but I dodge the strikes and shove him against the floor. Where he got ahold of the blade, I know not. Always be prepared. Expect the unexpected. Let your fear pass through you. Never hesitate. Never!_

_I try to disarm him, but he swings the dagger at my face. I duck away and it's buried in the wall; before Aearion can get up and pull it out, I grab him, swing him around and slam him against the floor again. He quickly hits my face with a back elbow, freeing himself from my grasp._

_He scrambles to his feet and runs into another empty room; its use evades me. I'm right behind him though, too close it turns out as I crash through one of the doors, which he left closed on purpose, and stumble into the room. I haven't even regained my balance when I fire a left-right combination hitting Aearion in the stomach and face. This sent my dear gwanur falling onto a table in the room, smashing it completely. _

_Oh, well. Not like anyone lives in here anyway._

_I try to hit Aearion again as he gets to his knees, but he catches my arm and drives me across the room and into a glass-windowed bookcase. Taking advantage, Aearion sends a roundhouse kick at my face, but I manage to block it and send a backhanded fist across his face. He counters with another round kick, knocking me down. I'm on my feet soon though and I run to him, slamming a left hook into his face. I quickly follow with a right hook, snapping his head back. Before I can hit him again, he grabs my hand with his own and clasps our palms together, signaling the end of our fight. _

_Every time, this is how it ends, with our palms together. A sign of dignity, honor and respect. At least to us that is what it means._

"_Good!" he compliments, panting right along with me and we walk back into the hall. "You've greatly improved in your reaction time."_

"_With you as my teacher, how can I do nothing but improve?" He laughs, shaking his head, and as I throw an arm around his waist, he puts one over my shoulder. "Come! Let's take Balanidhrenand Aefaradien for a ride!"_

As I walk through the passing shadows of our enchanting halls, I see a crack in one of our stone walls. I place my right fist into it gently, and smile at how my knuckles fit perfectly. After that fight, we couldn't do rough physical fighting for months! I pray that you are safe, Leûra. I hope Valar has kept you well, and that Lord Elrond has put you on the right path. My misadventures were my own, and now you have yours. I can only imagine what trials you face.

"Oh, Leûra, where are you? What news have you learned?" I breathe with a heavy sigh. Have you been injured? Are you even alive? I wish I knew, dear gwathel.

"Why do you care?" I whip around at the harsh voice and see Ada. His skin has grown deathly pale, his eyes are slowly glazing over and he can barely walk without a limp. What is happening to the man I knew?

"Ada, you should not be out of bed," I chide him with full concern, placing one arm around his shoulder and steer him away from his study. He knows the Stone is gone – he has known since gwathel left – yet he still goes in there as if it will magically appear. "You are not well."

"I am well enough to know what goes on in my own home." He pushes me away from him, and begins to walk slowly towards his study. "You can tell Leûra, upon her return, that she is banished."

"What? Father, you cannot mean that!" I argue, following him and blocking his path. I can't let him do this! He's going down a path of destruction! He's going to get us all killed!

"Do you wish to join your sister? Do you!" He pushes me away yet again, but more forceful as I fall to the cold stone floor. I'd forgotten what it felt like down here. "I've changed my mind," he says with a curious look on his face as I rise to my feet. What is he doing now? "When Leûra returns…she shall be put to death."

"What!" I shout at him. He's gone insane! I should have gone with her! "Father, you—"

"No! I will not yield!" His anger soon passes as the kind father I once knew comes through for a moment. His face softens, some what, as he places both his hands to my neck and pulls me closer to him. "Be the son that defended me years ago, and do not dissuade me. Your sister has commited treason."

"But you love her, or you once did. You must see this is wrong!" My argument falls on deaf ears though as a smug smile comes across his face. He releases me and stands tall, almost as if all his strength has returned.

"No, I see. I see clearly for the first time in a very long time. A lesson must be taught." Ada turns away from me, and confidently strides towards his desheviled study. "We are the future, Aearion, not her! You will see! Everyone will!"

"But she's your daughter…" I whisper to the empty halls as his doors slam shut. Sighing, which is all I seem to do lately, I walk down towards my room for a night of, hopefully, peaceful rest. "Leûra, hurry home. We need you. _I_ need you," I whisper fornlornly into the darkness, hoping against hope that she's hears my pleas.

_**A/N: **_I thought all of you would like to know what's been happening back at Cuiviénen. Hope you liked it! Next chapter will go back to Edoras!

P.S.: Three pages total.

**Translations:**

Gwathel: sister

Gwanur: brother


	37. Simbelmynë

_**Disclaimer: **_I don't own _The Lord of the Rings _or any of its characters. I only own Leûra, Aearion, Undûme, Cassiopeia, Balanidhren, Aefaradien and any other original characters – so no stealing. However, I don't own Cuiviénen. That place belongs to J. R. R. Tolkien, but the stories of it in Chapter 1 and 2 are all mine.

**Chapter 37: Simbelmynë**

The Rohirrim gathered for Théodred's funeral; the men show no tears but their pain is evident. Théodred's body is carried towards the tomb on a bier made of shields and spears, his swords held to his chest as he dones his armor. Théoden leads the way, Èowyn next to him, myself and the Fellowship and villagers behind them. My own pain at the loss of Théodred consumes me. How many more have to die before Saruman is stopped? Before the Dark Lord is stopped?

"_Bealocwealm hafað fréone frecan forth onsended giedd sculon singan gléomenn sorgiende on Meduselde þæt he ma no wære, Þæt he ma nowere is, þurh niedig rest. And mægen deorost. Bealo…_" I hear Èowyn singing while the men pass another deceased friend's body to the women, who place it into the tomb.

"_Quel_ _esta, Théodred. Tenna' ento lye omenta, mellon nîn,_" I say sadly, only three of my companions able to understand what I say. My vision is clouded by more tears, which seem to flow more freely nowadays. I can stay here no longer. I cannot watch this!

I turn away from my place between Aragorn and Legolas, and find I do not have to push my way through the villagers and Rohirrim. They've left a path open from when Théodred's body was brought down, and that path still remains. I hear footsteps behind me, almost none existant, as I run up the hill. I stop at the top of the stairs, leaning on the doors to the entrance into the Golden Hall, and I break down…again.

All the pain I harbor now pours out and I can't stop it. More than that, I don't want to. First Gandalf, then the Hobbits, Boromir, Èomer and now Théodred. Who will be next? Gimli? Legolas? Èowyn? Aragorn? I can take this no longer! Why did Aearion send me? Why did Balanidhren leave me here? I am not ready for this! I never was! Why me!

"Leûra…"

I feel a gentle hand on my shoulder, and I cease my tears for a moment. I don't even need to look up to see who it is. My breath continues to shake as I place a hand on Legolas', squeezing it for comfort and strength. He understands and says no more. He just allows me to stand there and soak everything in.

**Translations: **

Bealocwealm hafað fréone frecan forth onsended giedd sculon singan gléomenn sorgiende on Meduselde þæt he ma no wære, Þæt he ma nowere is, þurh niedig rest. And mægen deorost. Bealo…: An evil death has set forth the noble warrior. A song shall sing sorrowing minstrels in Meduseld that he is no more, That he is nowhere anymore, for his necessary rest. And that he is the dearest kinsman. Killing took him...

Quel esta, Théodred. Tenna' ento lye omenta, mellon nîn: Rest well, Théodred. Until we next meet, my friend.

P.S.: One page total.


	38. Exodus from Edoras

_**Disclaimer: **_I don't own _The Lord of the Rings _or any of its characters. I only own Leûra, Aearion, Undûme, Cassiopeia, Balanidhren, Aefaradien and any other original characters – so no stealing. However, I don't own Cuiviénen. That place belongs to J. R. R. Tolkien, but the stories of it in Chapter 1 and 2 are all mine.

**Chapter 38: Exodus from Edoras**

Inside the Golden Hall two children, Èothian and Freda, ate a bowl of stew heartily. Èowyn is kneeling by their side with motherly concern. She tells us that these children's village had no warning, that they were unarmed. She states, angrily, that the Wild Men are moving through Westfold, burning as they go, every rick, cot and tree. Freda asks where her mother is, but Èowyn tells her to hush. The poor thing, her mother is most likely dead in a ditch or burned to ash somewhere.

"This is but a taste of the terror that Saruman will unleash," Gandalf states, seated next to Théoden, raising his arms towards the malenurished children. I wonder if their village is where I found Rhandir. "All the more potent for he is driven mad by the fear of Sauron. Ride out and meet him head on. Draw him away from your women and children. You _must _fight."

"You have two thousand good men riding North as we speak," Aragorn reminds the king while holding his pipe. "Èomer is loyal to you. His men will return and fight for their king."

"They will be three hundred leagues from here by now! Èomer cannot help us," Théoden exclaims, feeling foolish and guilty. Perhaps Balanidhren will go after Èomer for us? No, he would probably do that if I asked but I cannot risk it. Èomer and the other Rohirrim do not know about him. They would kill him the first chance they got. "I know what is that you want of me. But I would not bring further death to my people. I will _not_ risk open war."

"Open war is upon you, whether would risk it or not!" Aragorn argues forcefully, but Théoden walks over to him and faces him all the same.

"When last I looked, Théoden, not Aragorn, was king of Rohan." The two men stare at one another, neither backing down. Their contest, however, is interupted by Gimli belching from his small table. I look down at him a moment before hitting upside his head. He stammers to say something, but ends up growling and muttering under his breath. I look up at Legolas, who is smiling with mirth.

"Then what is the king's decision?" Gandalf asks calmly, still in his chair and patient as ever.

* * *

"By order of the King, the city must empty! We make for the refuge of Helm's Deep! Do not burden yourself with treasures – take only what provisions you need!" Háma shouts to the people of Edoras outside.

"Helm's Deep! They flee to the mountains when they should stand and fight. Who will defend them if not their king?" Gimli questions as we walk through the crowds and entered the stables.

"He is only doing what he thinks is best for his people. Helm's Deep has saved them in the past," Aragorn argues neutrally.

"He is only going to kill his people!" I argue, striding along side him and Gandalf to the back of the stables. "Surely you must see this, Gandalf?"

"There is no way out than that of ravine. Théoden is walking into a trap. He thinks he is leading them to safety, but what he'll get is a massacre," he replies. I nod to Aragorn, proving my point. "Théoden has a strong hold but I fear for him. I fear for the survival of Rohan. He will need you before the end, Aragorn. The people of Rohan will need you. The defenses have to hold."

"They will hold," Aragorn assures him and Gandalf noddly solemnly, turning to his white mare, Shadowfax.

"The Grey Pilgrim. That is what they used to call me. Three hundred lives of men I've walked this earth and now…I have no time." Aragorn and I glance at one another, feeling a bit of pity for the old Wizard. "Good luck. My search will not be in vain." As he mounts Shadowfax, I step next to the horse and place my hand on Gandalfs.

"If Èomer refuses, which he may, tell him either Èowyn has fallen ill or Gríma has taken her as his wife." Gandalf and Aragorn stare at me as if I'm crazy, but I ignore them. "Trust me, he will come. If not for his king, then for his sister." Gandalf nods to me with a smile.

"Look to my coming at first light on the fifth day. At dawn, look to the East." We nod to him, Aragorn telling him to go. Gandalf rides out of the stables, nearly running over Legolas and Gimli, and towards Gondor. We can only hope that he find Èomer in time. We leave our fates to a ghost of hope now.

P.S.: Two pages total.


	39. Virtue and Self Control

_**Disclaimer: **_I don't own _The Lord of the Rings _or any of its characters. I only own Leûra, Aearion, Undûme, Cassiopeia, Balanidhren, Aefaradien and any other original characters – so no stealing. However, I don't own Cuiviénen. That place belongs to J. R. R. Tolkien, but the stories of it in Chapter 1 and 2 are all mine.

**Chapter 39: Virtue and Self-Control**

The people of Rohan soon head towards Helm's Deep. Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli and myself ride beside Théoden in the front. The king stops at a good distance, turning to take one last look at Edoras. I ride beside him and place a comforting hand on his shoulder. He looks at me and nods before we continue our journey to Helm's Deep. He doesn't remember me since Saruman was controlling him at the time, but I can tell he trusts me. That's enough.

Night soon comes after an uneventful day of traveling, a little too uneventful. Unless you count the story Èowyn relayed to me about how Gimli fell from his horse, to which he assured everyone it was deliberate. I retold this tale to Legolas, who I was with when Gimli's misadventure happened, and he found it quite amusing. We have become the scouts of the refugee group. We ride ahead of the others all day in comfortable silence, watching and waiting. I'm shock that nothing happened. I'm ever more shocked that, that disappoints me!

We camp for the night and I take first watch. Nothing happens at all. Actually, I am somewhat grateful for that, now, in hindsight. I go to Legolas and tell him it is his turn, but he is already up and performing his duties. He never sleeps, he does not need it. Nonetheless, it worries me for some reason. I lay down on my bedroll and try to sleep, regain the strength I've lost, but it's no use. I just look up into the kingdom above, mapping it out in my mind, all the while with Gimli's snores invade my ears.

No longer able to take just laying down, I get up and walk through the camp. I wish to speak with Aragorn on what happened to Gandalf, how he came to be with us again. A few more steps and I find him smoking his pipe by a fire, deep in thought. He looks troubled. I'll leave him be for now, and speak to the Elven prince I see sneaking out of the camp.

"Legolas? Are you well?" I ask as I sit down next to him, truly concerned about him for the first time in a long time. Valar, I can remember when I said nothing to him but words of venom. I hope he can forgive me.

"Yes, I am." He smiles ever so slightly while looking into the distance. I wonder what he's thinking about since he has an almost amused look on his face, but he soon turns to me with seriousness. "You should be with the others. You need to rest."

"I need no rest, Legolas. My arm has healed thanks to the Lady Galadriel, and my other wound…" I sigh bitterly, touching the place of yet another scar on my right side. I notice Legolas looks down too, and I'm not even shocked when he lifts up my shirt to see it. His fingers gently graze the angled scar, a gift from that bastard Uruk, before he looks up at me with…pity? Sympathy? "It is fully healed, and I am well." He nods with that same small smile as I lower my shirt, and we both look out into the dark of night. "I was once told by an Elven priest that my motivation to survive was that of my fathers." Scoffing slightly, I shake my head and smile. "I told them that my motivation has nothing to do with it."

"Care to explain." It wasn't question, so I can easily tell his curiosity is piqued.

"Very well, but I warn you now that you may not accept what I say," I warn him with all seriousness, but he nods for me to continue without a second thought. "I once believed that all people are motivated by their own selfishness. To say we are not is to deny our own wishes and dreams for the future – our hope."

"I will never fully understand how you, a graceful and immortal being, became such a cynic." He pauses a moment to allow me to process what he says, as if he's scolding me like you would a child. "But, you said you _once _believed that was true. It gives me hope that your beliefs have changed."

"_I_ have changed, Legolas, not just my beliefs," I reply, looking at him once more with a small smile. "After spending two months with a fellowship of fueding races, then another month here amongst Men…well, though there _are_ selfish people in this world, there are still truly good people as well. _That_ gives me hope." Legolas is smirking at me with what I can only guess is pride. All I can do is smile and stare back at him. This is so strange, this feeling. My stomach feels as if it's in knots, yet I feel as though I could fly to the stars. Why does my skin feel so…so…am I blushing? "E-Enough about me, Legolas. Why do you keep up watch so late at night when it is Aragorns turn?" I ask, shaking my head and gaze away from him.

"Aragorn is on watch, but I do not sleep. I merely left the camp to be alone…to ponder." I've learned by now that he is always this cryptic, so I won't even bother to tease him.

"And what is it that you ponder so?" I ask him seriously. I'm actually curious to know. How strange.

"To discover where we shall find the strength to endure what is to come, and what has already come to pass."

"Legolas, we must find strength within each other." I notice, from the corners of my eyes, that he looks at me fully. I still can't look at him. What is this feeling! "We are the Fellowship. We are all we have now."

"A cynic you may be on the surface, but I think virtue is beginning to shine through." I chuckle at his mirth, which he sems to find more easily now then when we first set out. Perhaps he has been with Gimli for too long?

"My brother is a philoshoper of sorts, like you. He believes virtue to be the only good, and self-control to be the only means of achieving virtue. I used to think him a crazy fool…until now."

"And why now?" Courage has built up within me, so I pray that the strange feeling in my stomach does not return. Looking at him face, moonlight gently dancing across it, my prayers are unanswered.

"Things have changed in this world. The people have changed. I, myself, have never seen other places or people beyond my city. It is strange to think that when this is all over, that I will return to its solitude and never see a Hobbit or Man or Dwarf ever again." Looking at the ground for a moment, suddenly becoming interesting under Legolas' gaze, I force the lump in my throat away. I return my eyes upward, not to Legolas but to the sky. Is Balanidhren watching me now? "I won't see the stars, the sun, the moon or even the seasons change. What season is it now?"

"Fall. Winter will settle in soon though. Snow will come and the leaves on the trees will wither away." He sounds regretful, but with him being an Wood Elf I'm not surprised.

"Winter? Like on Mount Caradhras?" I look at him to see him nod and I smile, looking back at the vast plains of Rohan. "I shall miss the winter, then. A world of fragile things. It seems to make you forget the darkness and death surrounding us now." My eyes just can't seem to find one spot that's more interesting than the ground. "Legolas, about Gandalf…did you know him well?"

"Only from stories Estel has told me, when he came to my realm to speak with my father, and in the time he has been with us."

"I never knew him, though I longed to. I grew up on stories of him. Stories of Trolls, Dwarfs, evil Dragons and, of course, Hobbits of the Shire. He was…_is_ a great man, and was taken before his time. It does my heart good that he's returned."

"True. I remember a story involving the Hobbits and a Dragon. Mithrhandir, supposedly, pushed one of his dear Hobbit friends out of their home door to face the Dragon alone."

"I cannot believe that!" I prostest, laughing and gaping at him but he smiles. "Well, maybe I can. Gandalf has a childish side of him, a light that is his and his alone. Oh, how I missed him." I sigh with sadness and, oddly enough, content. "I hope we do not lose him again," I add, closing my eyes and breathing in the night air.

"Closing your eyes to disappear?" he asks with a teasing tone.

"No, I ponder," I reply, mocking his earlier words, and open my eyes to look at him. There's that feeling again! "I dream."

"You pray your dreams will leave you here, but still you wake and know the truth: no one's there."

"You speak in riddles, Prince of Mirkwood." He smirks and inclines his head slightly towards me. "The Lady was right about you – you _are_ a mystery."

"As are you," he replies softly, almost child-like or afraid he would disturb someone's slumber.

He reaches out a hand towards me, and I'm so starled that I take a lean back slightly. He sees my movement and smiles, knowingly. I see that all he was doing was brushing some hair from my face, but I didn't know that then. He startled me! I wait for him to do something, anything, but all he does is smile and stare at me. There it is again, that feeling. My skin has flushed yet again, and I feel…I feel…I don't know what I feel!

"I-I think it's time we headed back to camp. We have a long journey ahead of us." That was the most pathetic excuse I've _ever_ given to get out of something! What's wrong with me!

"Yes, Aragorn may be looking for us. No sense in causing unnecessary worry. We have enough to worry about as it is." We nod at one another, and he is the first to leave. As I watch his retreating form, I suddenly feel very guilty. I don't know why though.

"Legolas!" I call as quietly as possible, and he stops. As I stride to him, he asks me if there is something else I need. No, nothing I need…not really. Before I can ever stop myself, though I'm not sure I want to, I wrap my arms around his neck and hug him. "I missed you, too," I whisper into his ear, remembering that I never did hug him when we were reunited. I feel his arms wrap around my waist and hold me.

Opening my eyes, I see Aragorn walk back to the camp, pipe in hand, and I realize he must have seen everything. I should let Legolas go and return to my bedroll, but I don't want to. This, my arms around him and his around me, it feels good…right. I don't understand. What is this?

P.S.: Four pages total.


	40. The Wolves of Isengard

_**Disclaimer: **_I don't own _The Lord of the Rings _or any of its characters. I only own Leûra, Aearion, Undûme, Cassiopeia, Balanidhren, Aefaradien and any other original characters – so no stealing. However, I don't own Cuiviénen. That place belongs to J. R. R. Tolkien, but the stories of it in Chapter 1 and 2 are all mine.

**Chapter 40: The Wolves of Isengard**

Legolas stands a small distance from me, scanning our surroundings. I watch him from atop Rhandir, waiting patiently for him to tell me what he sees – if anything. I hear hoofbeats behind me, and turn to see Théoden's captians, Háma and Gamling, ride to the front of the column. Doesn't the king trust us to scout the area on our own? Men!

"What is it?" Gamling asks as their horses and Rhandir grow restless. "Háma?"

"I'm not sure." Háma says softly, gazing at the area before him. Ignoring the men, I push Rhandir closer to Legolas. Rhandir suddenly bucks up, and I try to steady him but he whinnies and turns the other way. I look back and see a Warg killing Háma and Gamling fighting with an Orc – a scout. Just as I am about to ride to Gamling's aid, Legolas shoots down the Warg then kills the scout.

"A scout!" he shouts back to the others, loud enough for Aragorn to hear.

"Wargs! We are under attack!" I hear Aragorn shout back to, who I can only assume is Théoden. The shouts of panic from the villagers soon reaches my ears, and Théoden's order for all riders to the head of the column. Damn Aragorn and Théoden! The last thing we need are panicking mortals!

I finally calm Rhandir and ride next to Legolas. We stand on a hills peak, and spot the Warg pack running towards us. Legolas starts shooting at the Wargs and their riders, his aim impecible. I hate that all I can do is stand here! The column of riders soon appear behind us, and I see Legolas swing himself up onto the back of Gimli's horse.

I kick Rhandir foreward next to Aragorn, who sits atop Brego. The Rohirrim and what is left of the Fellowship run towards each other, swords drawn. The Warg riders crash against us at full speed, and the fight we expected begins. There are so many Wargs, but they and their riders are soon killed. As I slash down the Orc riders that pass me, with more ease than I though possible, I see Gimli fall from his horse and a riderless Warg heads towards him.

"Bring your pretty face to my axe!" he shouts and I start to ride towards him, but Legolas shoots the Warg as it attacks before Gimli has the chance to kill it himself. "Argh! That one counts as mine!" I smile at how they continue to have their contest dispite our situation. As I slit the throat of yet another Orc, I see a dead Warg land on Gimli. "Argh! Stinking creature, argh!"

A rider suddenly appears over the dead Warg, sword raised to kill Gimli. I kick Rhandir hard to go to Gimli's add. We can lose no one else! Rhandir suddenly stops, bucking backwards like he did moments before the first scout appeared. What is wrong with him! I try to sooth him, but nothing is working. Just as I hear an Orc's neck snap, Gimli's doing most likely, I hear a Warg growl. Looking to my left, I see a riderless Warg charge at me.

It jumps and tackles Rhandir and I to the ground, but it leaves my steed and claws at me. Rising to my feet, Faidwen and Gwiil in hand, I face the beast carefully. It roars at me, its teeth dripping with drools and I can smell it's breath from here. It takes off into a run, charging at me. It leaps towards me and I catch its chest with Faidwen and Gwiil. Ignoring its yelps of pain, I plant my right foot into its chest and pull the best over my head and free my weapons from its dead body.

I turn to see a spear within another Warg, which also landed on Gimli. Poor man! I look behind me at the warg I killed, only to see it still twitching. Just for good measuer, I bury Gwiil into its throat and it's movements cease. I'm finally able to help Gimli, so I run to him. All the while I see Aragorn and Théoden killing Wargs and their riders.

"How do you fare, Gimli?" I ask, smirking at the fact her has two dead Wargs and an Orc piled on top of him.

"Very funny, lass, very funny. Hilarious!" he gasped sarcastically and I chuckle, pushing the first Warg from him. "Hurry up, Lady Elf! Hurry up! I cannot let that pointy-eared princeling beat me!" I laugh fully this time as I flip the Warg directly atop him to the ground, the Orc flying with it.

Rising to his feet, he grumbles and mutters about something being unfair. We look around and see the fighting is dissipating, and the Warg are retreating back to Isengard. I spot Legolas and call to him, both Gimli run to him and look around. Gimli asks where Aragorn is, but Legolas says he thought he was with us. Panic reaches all of us as we begin to trek the plain, calling out our leaders name. I hear laughing and see a dying Orc on the ground, blood gushing from his chest and mouth. I bend down to him, and pointing my Faidwen to his throat.

"Tell me what happened, and I will ease your passing!" Gimli threatened at my side, bending down and pointing his axe at the beast.

"He's…" It began, but was cut off by with a rackin gcough in which in blood oozed from its body ever still. "…Dead," it finishes with a twisting smile and laughed. "He took a little tumble off the cliff." I look at Gimli and up at Legolas, frightened, before I run to the edge of the cliff and look down into the vast river.

"You lie!" I hear Legolas shout, and look back to see him grab the Orc by it's throat.

The Orc laughed again, blood bubbling in his mouth before he falls back dead. I look back to see Legolas pull something from the Orc's hand before rising to his feet. My two companions approach the cliff, standing beside me and look down into the river below. I look into Legolas' hand and see a silver necklace. I was about to ask him about it until Théoden approached us from behind.

"Get the wounded on horses. The wolves of Isengard will return. Leave the dead."

Legolas and I look at him as if he's crazy, but Théoden places a hand to Legolas' shoulder as if to comfort him. How can he say that! 'Leave the dead'! Leave Aragorn! If not for Aragorn, Théoden would be dead right now!

"Come."

Gimli follows Théoden sullenly, and Legolas pulls me from the edge. We are greeted by Rhandir, who I thought was dead till now. I rub his ears and press my forehead to his in thanks. I mount him swiftly, and put out my hand for Legolas to come up behind me. He does, and we leave the body riddled field behind us.

P.S.: Three pages total.


	41. Helm's Deep

_**Disclaimer: **_I don't own _The Lord of the Rings _or any of its characters. I only own Leûra, Aearion, Undûme, Cassiopeia, Balanidhren, Aefaradien and any other original characters – so no stealing. However, I don't own Cuiviénen. That place belongs to J. R. R. Tolkien, but the stories of it in Chapter 1 and 2 are all mine.

**Chapter 41: Helm's Deep**

"Make way for the king! Make way for Théoden. Make way for the King!" I hear a guard shout but I don't care. As we enter, we're surrounded by the refugees and I see Èowyn hurry down a set of stairs to meet us.

"So few," she gasps, staring around at the Rohirrim. "So few of you have returned."

"Our people are safe. We have paid for it with many lives," Théoden states and moves away with Gamling, the others soldiers soon going about their own business. Legolas helps me down from Rhandir since I have not the strength due to that damned Warg. As my feet touch the ground, he steadies me and I see Gimli walk to Èowyn.

"My lady," he said gravely and she asked where Aragorn was while looking around. "He fell…" Èowyn looks up at me in shock and disbelief, and I lower my head as Legolas walks with me behind Théoden. As we reach the top of the tower, Théoden says to draw all our forces behind the wall. He orders the soldiers to bar the gate, and set a watch on the surround.

"What of those who cannot fight my lord? The women and children?" The soldier asks and Théoden orders to get them into the caves. He states that Saruman's arm will have grown long indeed if he thought he could reach us here.

"You should rest while you can," Legolas says to me solemnly, and I nod since I do not have the strength to argue. What point is there in that? He walks with me inside, and we walk in comfortable silence to a room. "Rest well. I'll come to you when you're needed."

"He is a fool," I state, looking up into Legolas' cerulean eyes. "If Théoden thinks that his people are safe here, he is an even bigger fool than I first thought. He's going to kill his people. He's already killed his son, and Aragorn, and driven Èomer away. Whose next, Legolas? You? Gimli? …Me?"

"We will live through this war. We shall see our homes again, and see our friends once more," he assures me sadly and I place a hand to his cheek, caressing it gently.

"Aragorn will return before the battle," I tell him softly and he looks at me expectantly. "I promise you, Legolas. He will return." He smiles a bit, comforted by my words and we nod our farewells and I close the door.

I walk to the small bed and lay down immediately, letting its soft cushions release the ache of my back. Damn Wargs…ugh! With a heavy sigh, I close my eyes and let my breathing slow. I should not sleep so much, but with all the injuries I've recieved I need the sleep. Where is Aragorn? He can't be dead. I know he's not, I can feel it in the air and the earth. I can sense his presence and feel his pain. He's alive and hurt, I know he is. But…he'll re…return s…soon e…nou…gh...

"_Boromir!" A crowd of Gondorian soldiers shout at the Osgiliath facing Boromir, who is waving the white flag of the Stewards. "Boromir!" Boromir suddenly stands upon a high wall in Osgiliath, and lifts his sword to the crowd of Gondorian soldiers below._

"_This city was once the jewel of our kingdom. A place of light, and beauty, and music. And so it shall be once more!" he addresses them, and the crowd erupted into cheers. "Let the armies of Mordor know this: Never again will the land of my people fall into enemy hands." The soldiers have wide smiles, as does Boromir, as more cheering ensues. "The city of Osgiliath has been reclaimed. For Gondor!"_

"_For Gondor!" The crowd echoes, and Boromir repeats the words two more times, and two more times the soldiers echo him. Back on the streets, Boromir meets and embraces a young man who bears a likeness to him._

"_Good speech. Nice and short," the man, Faramir, Boromir's only brother and truest friend, states jokingly._

"_Leaves more time for drinking!" Boromir replies with a smile, patting his brother's shoulder. "Break out the ale! These men are thirsty!" he orders two soldiers, who immediately listen. Borormir turns back to his brother and speaks softly so only he can hear. "Remember today, little brother. Today, life is good." Faramir nods proudly before looking past Boromir and frowns. "What?"_

"_He is here," Faramir states lowly with darkness and Boromir sighs, aggrivated. _

"_One moment of peace. Can he not give us that?" he asks himself and his brother, but all that was heard was their father's voice. Denethor was asking where Gondor's finest was, where his first-born was. "Father!" Boromir calls and the two embrace but Faramir hangs back, watching sullenly._

"_They say you vanquished the enemy almost single-handedly," Denethor exclaims, beaming with pride. Boromir tells him they exaggerate, that the victory belonged to Faramir also. "But for Faramir, this city would still be standing. Were you not entrusted to protect it?"_

"_I would have done so, but our numbers were too few," Faramir argues without much confidence. He always feels small under his father's gaze, always compared to Boromir even though the two brothers could care less._

"_Oh, too few! You let the enemy walk in and take it on a whim. Always you cast a poor reflection on me." Faramir says that is not his intent, voice quiet, and Boromir decides to stand up for the brother he loves._

"_You give him no credit, and yet he tries to do your will," he admonishes and withdraws to an alcove, Denethor following. "He loves you, Father."_

"_Do not trouble me with Faramir. I know his uses, and they are few. We have more urgent things to speak of. Elrond of Rivendell has called a meeting. He will not say why, but I have guessed its purpose. It is rumored that the weapon of the enemy has been found."_

"_The One Ring. Isildur's Bane," Boromir breathed._

"_It has fallen into the hands of the Elves. Everyone will try to claim it: Men, Dwarves, Wizards. We cannot let that happen. This thing must come to Gondor. It's dangerous, I know. Ever the Ring will seek to corrupt the hearts of lesser men. But you, you are strong and our need is great. It is our blood which is being spilled, our people who are dying. Sauron is biding his time. He's massing fresh armies. He will return. And when he does, we will be powerless to stop him. You must go. Bring me back this mighty gift."_

"_No. My place is here with my people. Not in Rivendell," Boromir argues as they exit the alcove, and he walks towards his brother. Denethor followed though and asks if he would deny his own father, trying to guilt his eldest son._

"_If there is need to go to Rivendell, send me in his stead," Faramir suggests reasonably, ready to do whatever it would be his father would will of him, eager to please, to gain approval. Boromir smiles at his brother, fully ready to back him up but their father intervines yet again._

"_You? Oh, I see. A chance for Faramir, Captain of Gondor, to show his quality? I think not. I trust this mission only to your brother. The one who will not fail me." _

_So it was said and so it was. Preparations were made and Boromir soon sat atop his horse out side Minas Tirith, looking up at the flag of the Stewards. Faramir soon came to stand next to his older brother, saddened by his leaving and his own father's lack of faith in him. Boromir looks at his brother and smiles saddly as well. They both share the same opinion of their father and love one another, unconditionally, no matter what Denethor thinks of them._

"_Remember today, little brother," Boromir says softly and rides away with his party, Faramir's eyes watching him longingly._

"Boromir..." I open my eyes and see that it is dusk already. "Oh, Boromir. I'm so sorry." I rise to my feet and leave my room, walking down the halls to find the others.

_**A/N:**_I missed Boromir too much, I just had to have this in here. Not many people know about this deleted scene, and it sort of explains a lot. I thought this would help a bit with Boromir, Faramir and Denethor's characters, and give in more to Leûra's preborn nature.

P.S.: Three pages total.


	42. A WellAimed Arrow

_**Disclaimer: **_I don't own _The Lord of the Rings _or any of its characters. I only own Leûra, Aearion, Undûme, Cassiopeia, Balanidhren, Aefaradien and any other original characters – so no stealing. However, I don't own Cuiviénen. That place belongs to J. R. R. Tolkien, but the stories of it in Chapter 1 and 2 are all mine.

**Chapter 42: A Well-Aimed Arrow**

Legolas has sent word, through Gimli no less, that he wishes to speak with me. About what I cannot be sure, but it must be important. It better be since we have a war to fight soon. At least Aragorn will return soon, that's some small comfort. We'll need him, he's a pivital figure in this war. No, I can't think of him now. My thoughts must remain here with the refugees.

Walking into the Hall, I see a few of the young men sparring with each other before I spot Legolas in the very back. I stare at him strangely, wondering what he's doing until I hear the familiar sound of an arrow hitting a board. Does he never rest? With an aggravated sigh, I walk over to him with long strides.

"Why did you call me here?" I ask, getting straight to the point as he tends to do. He turns to face me with a bow in hand, not his bow though. What is going on?

"The battle we face will be a difficult one. Without Aragorn, we will need all the archers we can. I need to see our skill, to know if there is something you need to improve upon. We must be at our best." He holds out the bow to me and I pale. He looks at me expectantly, but I do nothing. And what does he mean 'without Aragorn'? Does he not believe me?

"Legolas, I do not know how to use the bow," I admit pointedly, staring at the, obviously, Elven crafted beauty. What was he thinking?

"Then I shall teach you," he states easily. His surprise at my downfall was evident as he held a small smile. He gently grabbed my elbow, pulling me to stand in front of him, and positions my arms properly. What does he think he's doing!

"_Tampa, Legolas! Mani naa lle umien?_" I ask within a whisper, pulling away from him and pushing the bow into his hands.

"I merely wish to teach you how to use the bow."

"I do not wish to learn! Can you not see that?"

"I can...now, but I do not understand why," he replies confusedly. "I do not understand what I have done to anger you so. You are my kin; the bow is in your blood."

"Not _my_ blood!" I exclaim, still hushed and I pull him into an alcove that reminds me of my dream with Boromir. "I was never taught the bow because there was never a use for it in my realm. I was taught that our problems must be solved with a sword, face-to-face. Not at a distance, hiding behind a bow. Dragon Knights rely on our physical strength and our Drakes. That is all we need!"

"Unless you plan to stand outside the wall, alone, against the enemy, you must put your backward ways behind you." I gape at him as he pulls me back to stand fifty paces from the board, placing the bow in my left hand.

Still a little angry at his words, I grip the bow and take aim. I've seen him shot his arrows many times on our journey, how hard can it be? I pull back the arrow as hard as I can, and release the arrow. The damned thing doesn't even make it halfway to the board! My ears pick up the stifled laugh of a certain Elf prince, so I turn to face him and see a smile spread across his face. The nerve! I told him I'd never used a bow before! He forces me to use one and then laughs after I fail! What is his problem?

"Are you going to continue basking in the brilliance of my failure or help me?" I snap impatiently, glaring at him. This feels just like the beginning of this journey when everything he did irritated me!

"I just needed to see how skilled you are on your own, without my help, Leûra," he comments before moving to my left side. "You are too tense, relax." He moves his hands to my waist and forces my shoulders back, then pushes my legs further apart with his foot. I stiffen and he chides me. "Don't choke it. It is a bow, not a sword. It needs the patience of a mother, not the force of a Dragon." He fixes the grip I have with his own hands, which I can't believe I never noticed were so…so…oh, Valar! Does he even know what he's doing to me? Not even realizing it, my grip tightens again and, instead of becoming angry, he smiles and fixes my grip again.

"A caress, not a grope. Find a balance." He moves behind me and straightens my aim. I can't help but look back at him. "Target is _that_ way," he says gently, smile still in place, as he pushes my chin back towards the target. Even I'm smiling now. "Remember the balance," he whispers in my ear, shivers sparking down my spine, as he puts his hands atop mine at the bow and arrow to guide me. I can hear his soft breath, and even hear his steady heartbeat. "Let it fly." When he releases my hands, I release the arrow and hit the target, which is in the likeness of an Orc, directly in its head.

"Lucky shot," I breathe while looking at the arrow embedded in the skull of hay. "You were guiding me."

"Then try again without me." He hands me another arrow, and backs away to lean against a pillar.

My ears perk up to the sound of silence, and I realize we were left alone. These Men must still hold us in awe to leave us alone! Should I thank them later? No! Focus! You have to prove you can use this archaic weapon without that damned and gorgeous princeling's help! Take a deep breath and release. I repeat the process without Legolas and fire again. This time, the arrow lands within the Orcs's heart.

"You are a natural," he tells me, pride in his tone.

"I guess so," I say, dumbfounded, and look to him with a smirk, which he returns with a broad smile. I never thought I would use the bow, much less have any skill with it. Aearion will be shocked. Ha! I have another skill I best him at! "_Hannon le, Legolas._" He bows his head as I walk to him, handing him the bow.

"It is a gift. Keep it, and use it well," he states boldly, pushing it back into my hands. It's then I notice that he stares at me without speculation or analysis. I can't place what it is, but he stares into my eyes and his hands have yet to leave my own. Without a second thought, I move closer to him and he does to me. I can feel his warm breath on my flesh as he lowers his head towards my own.

"My Lord! Lady!" We separate quickly and see Gamling rushing towards. Were Legolas and I…? Were we about to…? Oh, damn that Gamling as he stops before us, and bows, catching his breath. He is lucky I do not have another arrow cocked and ready to fire. "Come to the Gates, quick! I've heard that Lord Aragorn has returned!" I look at Legolas to see him smile broadly as if a small Elfling. Gamling runs to where, I can only assume the Gates are and leave us.

"Did I not tell you he would return?" I ask, crossing my arms and looking at him pointedly. Unfortunately, my teasing tone gives me away and I smile. I open my mouth to speak again, but Legolas stops me by kissing my cheek.

"I shall never doubt thee again," he whispers softly, taking my hand, and we walk out of the Hall before breaking into a run towards the Gates. Damn you, Legolas. Damn you and the fire you burn in my stomach.

**Translations:**

Tampa, Legolas! Mani naa lle umien?: Stop, Legolas! What are you doing?

P.S.: Three pages total.


	43. Aragorn's Return

_**Disclaimer: **_I don't own _The Lord of the Rings _or any of its characters. I only own Leûra, Aearion, Undûme, Cassiopeia, Balanidhren, Aefaradien and any other original characters – so no stealing. However, I don't own Cuiviénen. That place belongs to J. R. R. Tolkien, but the stories of it in Chapter 1 and 2 are all mine.

**Chapter 43: Aragorn's Return**

"I'm gonna kill him!" I hear Gimli shout in the courtyard as Legolas and stand in front of the Hall doors. "You are the luckiest, the cunning-est, and most reckless man I ever knew!" I smile, seeing the two embrace, and look to my right at Legolas, who is smiling right back. "Bless you, laddie!" We see Aragorn speak lowly to Gimli for a moment before running up the stairs and into us.

"_Le abdollen,_" Legolas states neutrally, then looked his best friend up and down before staring at him with a scowl. "You look terrible." I laugh with Aragorn as he puts a hand to a now smirking Legolas' shoulder. Legolas moves his hand over Aragorn's and places the Evenstar in his palm.

"_Hannon le,_" Aragorn says gratefully, a sigh of relief emitting from him.

"You have returned from the dead, Aragorn. Learning tricks from Gandalf?" I ask, smirking at him. He chuckles at my words and nods his head to mine.

Taking both his hands, I kiss his knuckles, and then rest them on my forehead. A blessing my realm, wishing him luck and happiness – at least that's what Aearion told me. As I release his hands, I see both men smiling at me. I hate it when they do that; they make me feel so…odd. In the state of attention, I hit Aragorn in his shoulder, hard. He gasps a bit and rubs his shoulder, both men looking at me oddly.

"Don't ever disappear like again, or _I _will kill you," I tell him sternly before smiling as he laughs and hugs me. It is strange. As I think back to the beginning of this journey, I did not care if any of the Fellowship died. Now…now, if one of them died, I think I might die with them.

* * *

"A great host, you say?" Théoden asks Aragorn as he sat upon the throne made up for him in Helm's Deep. He looks greatly troubled this king; then again, I would be, too.

"All of Isengard has emptied," Aragorn states, confidant as ever, as he stands before him. The shock I feel inside _must_ be written on my face because 'all'? 'All'! Damn that wretched Wizard! What is he up to now? First the Uruk-hai, then the Wildmen's rampage, now what evil magic does he weave?

"How many?"

"Ten thousand strong at least." All of us look at Aragorn in stunned silence as Théoden turns to face him.

"Ten thousand?" the king echoes breathlessly. He looks as though a woman has slapped him in the face.

"Ten thousand," Aragorn repeats for him, as if he is deaf or a child. How is this even possible? Where did Saruman get this army? "It is an army bred for a single purpose: to destroy the world of Men." I think Théoden King has stopped breathing. "They will be here by nightfall."

"Let them come," Théoden retorts confidently, walking outside. Aragorn follows him and, reluctantly on my part, Legolas, Gimli and I follow as well. Is Théoden really this ignorant? Are all kings of Men? Valar, I hope not. "I want every man and strong lad able to bear arms to be ready for battle by nightfall. We will cover the causeway and the gate from above. No army has ever breached the Deeping Wall or set foot inside the Hornburg."

"This is no rabble of mindless Orcs! These are Uruk-hai! Their armor is thick and their shields broad," Gimli exclaimed. Is he trying to be reasonable?

"I have fought many wars, Master Dwarf. I know how to defend my own keep," Théoden replies shortly as we continue walking until we are outside, overlooking the vast plains. Such a beautiful place tainted by the flame and blood. "They will break upon this fortress like water on rock. Saruman's hordes will pillage and burn; we've seen it before. Crops can be resown. Homes rebuilt. Within these walls, we _wil__l_ outlast them."

"They do not come to destroy Rohan's crops or villages! They come to destroy its people! Down to the last child," Aragorn argued forcefully.

"Do you not understand, my Lord?" I ask, moving next to Aragorn to face him. "Saruman's army _will _come here, and they will kill everything – _destroy_ everything you have created!"

"What would you have me do?" he asks desperately, making me feel sorry for snapping at him. "Look at my men; their courage hangs by a thread. If this is to be our end, then I would have them make such an end as to be worthy of remembrance!"

"Send out riders, my Lord. You must call for aid," Aragorn reasons, but its no use. Théoden will not listen. Idiot mortal! Sometimes I really wonder.

"And who will come? Elves, Dwarves? We are not so lucky in our friends as you. The old alliances are dead," he reminds us bitterly, looking pointedly at Legolas, Gimli and myself with a slight sneer.

"Gondor will answer." I gawk at Aragorn, who sounds confident – too confident. In all my readings, Gondor and Rohan have never been on good terms. What is in his head?

"'Gondor'? Where was Gondor when the Westfold fell? Where was Gondor when our enemies closed in around us?" Théoden asked rhetorically, his anger obvious as he spits the name Gondor so easily. "Where was Gon…" Calming himself, the king takes a breath and shakes his head. "No, my Lord Aragorn, we are alone."

Théoden walks away from us, ordering Gamling to get the women and children into the caves. Gamling argued that we need more time to lay provisions for a siege, but Théoden reminded him that there was no time. Gamling nodded numbly and ordered the gate to be secured. If Lord Théoden has been right about one thing so far, it is the fact that war is upon us.

**Translations:**

Le abdollen: You're late

P.S.: Three pages total.


	44. Tough Love

_**Disclaimer: **_I don't own _The Lord of the Rings _or any of its characters. I only own Leûra, Aearion, Undûme, Cassiopeia, Balanidhren, Aefaradien and any other original characters – so no stealing. However, I don't own Cuiviénen. That place belongs to J. R. R. Tolkien, but the stories of it in Chapter 1 and 2 are all mine.

**Chapter 44: Tough Love**

"Come on, people! Quickly, now!" a Rohirrim shouts as people scurry about Helm's Deep.

"We'll place the reserves along the wall. They can support the archers from above the gate," Aragorn says to both Legolas and myself as we follow him along the wall. "Can you use a bow?" he asks, turning to me.

"I've learned how to recently, yes," I reply, looking away from both of them and beyond the wall. I can feel my skin warm at the memory.

"Aragorn, you must rest. You're no use to us half-alive," Legolas jokes but the truth in his words ring truer than most.

"Aragorn!" I raise my head to see Èowyn running towards us. "I'm to be sent with the women into the caves." Aragorn tells her that is an honorable charge, but she looks angry. "To mind the children, to find food, and bedding when the men return. What renown is there in that?"

"My Lady, a time may come for valor without renown. Who then will your people look to in the last defense?" he asks as Legolas and I follow them through the halls, people moving aside for us as we pass.

"You let Leûra stand at your side. Let _me_ stand at your side." I can swear I hear her accusing me as she says this.

"It is not in my power to command it," Aragorn tells her regretfully and begins to walk away.

"You do not command the others to stay! They fight beside you because they would not be parted from you. Because they love you." He looks back at her a moment, and I know she can see how sorry he is because I can see it. Does she not understand? "I'm sorry," she says lowly and walks away before anyone can say a word.

"She is angry," Legolas states on my left, and I roll my eyes at his observation.

"She is envious," I correct, turning to face him. Legolas looks slightly confused so I sigh quietly and explain, "Because I am allowed to do what she cannot, yet aches to. But I agree with Aragorn, it is too dangerous for her to fight this battle."

"It is too dangerous for you as well, Lady Elf." I turn around fully to see Gimli walking towards us, ax firmly gripped in his hand. "Personally, I think you should go with the Lady Èowyn to the caves." What!

"And tend to people I do not know? Who are too frightened of my race to even be in the same room as me?" I ask him, walking intimitatingly slowly towards him. "Listen to the battle through the walls while the women cry for their husbands and sons and brothers? Sit and wait for my companions to return, and tell me it is safe to come outside?" My voice is bitter, I know this but it is justified. How dare they even try to do this to me? "I did not leave my home, join this Fellowship, and face the White Wizard of Isengard just to sit back and let Men fight for me. No, I will fight this battle, and I will see this darkness that surrounds us end."

"We do not mean to anger you, Leûra," Legolas tells me gently as we move toward the armory and Aragorn. "We only me to protect you."

"I do not need your protection, Legolas. Or _yours_, Gimli. Nor do I want it." My pace quickens into the armory where weapons are being handed out to the villagers. I've probably angered them, but they have to realize that I am a warrior and not just a princess.

"Farmers, ferriers, stable boys," Aragorn list as he looks around at the people around him. "These are no soldiers."

"Most have seen too many winters," Gimli comments as a group of old and graying men pass us. They look so fragile, as if they'll break if I touch them. They probably would.

"Or too few. Look at them. They're frightened. I can see it in their eyes." I watch Aragorn turn to Legolas, who looks at Aragorn as the room turns silent. Great, now we have an audience for our arguments. "_Boe a hyn neled herain…dan caer menig_," he comments with a superior tone. I never thought I'd see the day Legolas would look down on mortals.

"_Si beriathar hyn ammaeg na ned Edoras_," Aragorn reminds him cautiously, but I can tell he is ready to strike Legolas. Looking down I see Gimli completely confused. He should be glad he cannot understand what is being said.

"_Aragorn, men i ndagor. Hýn ú ortheri. Natha daged aen!_"

"Then I shall die as one them!" Aragorn and Legolas stare at each other, and I can feel their anger as everyone else can that has heard the outburst. There is no doubt in their mind as to what was said as Aragorn walks away from his dearest friend. Legolas tries to run after him, seeing what he has done, but Gimli and I stop him.

"Let him go, lad. Let him be." Gimli pats Legolas' back comfortingly and the last thing I hear, before running after Aragorn myself, is Gimli commenting that I'm too stubborn for my own good.

People who do not move out of my way as I run, I push them. I receive some angry shouts because of this, but I don't care. Why should I? All that matters is finding Aragorn and berating him for his conduct. How can he do this? How can he act like this? Now, of all times! Again, I have to ask myself, what is in his head! Reaching the front doors, I see him sitting on the steps. He looks so sullen. I can't yell at him now. With a heavy sigh, I move to the steps and sit down beside him. If he notices my presence, he doesn't acknowledge it or say anything.

"Why do fight with him now?" I ask him as we look into the night, Rohan's people milling about in fear of the coming battle. "He is your friend. He merely wishes to advise you."

"He merely wishes to seal the fate of these people without forethought," he returns bitterly, finally looking towards me. "Why do you defend him? After everything I've seen since we left Rivendell, you've held nothing but contempt for Legolas – until now. What has changed, Leûra?" The blush of my cheeks, the burning in my stomach, the race of my heart whenever he's near.

"Everything – all of us. We are all afraid, Aragorn. We each deal with our fear differently, in our own way." I squeeze his shoulder gently before standing, only hoping my words can comfort him. "You are our leader, Aragorn. We respect you; we care for you. Never forget this, _mellon nîn_. Never." I take one last look at him and he seems to be mulling over my words. Turning up the stairs, I leave him to calm down some more. As I depart, I hear him speak to Háleth, son of Háma. Poor boy. His father was killed by the Wargs on the way here.

**Translations:**

Boe a hyn neled herain…dan caer menig: And they should be. Three hundred… against ten thousand!

Si beriathar hyn ammaeg na ned Edoras: They have a better chance defending themselves here than in Edoras.

Aragorn, men i ndagor. Hýn ú ortheri. Natha daged aen!:Aragorn, they cannot win this fight. They are all going to die!

P.S.: Three pages total.


	45. The Host of the Eldar

_**Disclaimer: **_I don't own _The Lord of the Rings _or any of its characters. I only own Leûra, Aearion, Undûme, Cassiopeia, Balanidhren, Aefaradien and any other original characters – so no stealing. However, I don't own Cuiviénen. That place belongs to J. R. R. Tolkien, but the stories of it in Chapter 1 and 2 are all mine.

**Chapter 45: The Host of the Eldar**

f"Where is he?" I look up from attaching gauntlets to my wrists to see Legolas. I don't even jump anymore when he approaches. My hearing is, at last, healed. Thank Valar. "You went after him when I did not. Where is he?"

"He needed time to think, Legolas, so I left him to think." He looks disappointed with his head hanging low. He is always so melancholy, dwelling on things he should not worry about so much. "But…if I had to guess, he would be back in the armory." I offer him a smile, which he returns, his attitude perking up immediately.

Before I even know what's happening, Legolas kisses my cheek once again and takes off out of my room. Letting out a breath I didn't realize I was holding, I go back to work on my gauntlets. Why does he do that? _How_ does he do that? My skin tingles again, I can feel my pulse race and I can't seem to stop thinking about him and his smile.

I leave my room and head down the halls towards the armory. Hopefully, Aragorn has come to his senses and forgiven Legolas. Legolas…Wait a moment. Do I…? Well, he is rather…and he does seem to…No, it's not possible. I don't love Legolas, and he certainly doesn't love me. I walk down the stairs of the armory to see Aragorn smile at Legolas.

"_Ú-moe edamed, Legolas_," he assures him, both of them smiling at one another. Aragorn looks over Legolas' shoulder to me, and nods, silently thanking me. Legolas turns to see what Aragorn was looking at then smiles at me as I join them. "Are you ready, _mellon nîn_?"

"As I'll ever be," I say easily, releasing a shaky breath. Both of them place a hand on my shoulders and squeeze comfortingly. "I feel foolish saying that I am afraid."

"You would be foolish to say that you are not," Aragorn comments with a smile. We suddenly hear a door open and Gimli enters the room, wearing armor that is _far _too long for him. Where on earth did he get that?

"If we had time, I'd get this adjusted." The armor suddenly falls to the ground around his feet, and I have to place a hand over my mouth to keep myself from laughing. "It's a little tight across the chest." I smile at the Dwarf and look to Legolas and Aragorn who are smiling as well.

"Even in times of war, Gimli, you are ever amusing," I tell him. He laughs at this but stops abruptly when the sound of a horn is heard from outside. That cannot be Saruman's army! They could not have gotten here so fast!

"That is no Orc horn," Legolas exclaims and we rush out of the armory. Not an Orc horn? Some good news at last. But, if not the Army of Isengard, who? I can hear one of the guards shouting for someone to send for the king and to open the gate. I can hear the gates open and the marching of feet, but who are these warriors that come to our aid? Briefly, I hear Théoden ask how this is possible. How is _what_ possible!

"I bring word from Elrond of Rivendell." I know that voice, but it can't be. My feet quicken at the sound of his voice and we see Haldir with an army of Elves behind him. "An alliance once existed between Elves and Men. Long ago we fought and died together." I can't help but smile proudly as the four of us rush down the stairs to greet Haldir, who smiles when he sees us. "We come to honor that allegiance."

"_Mae govannen, Haldir_," Aragorn exclaims, standing before the Elf a moment before hugging him tightly. Haldir, a little surprised, returns the gesture with a smile of his own. Aragorn pulls back and pats the Elf's shoulders. "You are _most_ welcome." Legolas moves down the stairs, moving past Aragorn who's moved to stand by Théoden, and embraces Haldir. Haldir looks up to see me moving towards him and I hug him as well. My dreams were wrong; he is alive. I move to stand behind him, Legolas doing the same with a proud smile.

"We are proud to fight alongside men, once more," Haldir tells Théoden, Aragorn beaming at the bewildered king as the Army of Elves turn and lower their bows and shields in unison. All Théoden can do is nod dumbly, completely in awe.

"I need to speak with you," I whisper into Haldir's ear and he nods. He orders Legolas to take charge of the Elves until he returns and we walk toward the look out tower. Looking back a moment, I see Legolas with a frown. He almost looks disappointed. Perhaps he does…no, no! He doesn't! "_Sut naa lle__?_" I ask as we look over the dark plains. I can already hear the army coming closer.

"_Amin naa quel, hannon lle. Ar lle?_" he replies with some confusion at my concerned tone.

"_Amin naa quel vithel_," I reply and we stop speaking as a group of Men pass. Where they go, I know not but they're not my concern. Looking up at Haldir, I can see the concern he has towards me. I must look as I feel, terrified, for him to look at me like that. "I've missed you, _mellon nîn_."

"And I you, but I see my fears were in vain."

My brow furrowed in confusion as I ask, "What do you mean "fears"?"

"The Lady told me that you would face a great danger. I feared that you had perished." I balk. Why would Galadriel say I am going to die? If she said that…am I? Oh, Valar, I think my stomachs dropped out again. Maybe I shouldn't be fighting.

"I have faced many things since I left Lórien, death has been one of them," I tell him with a wavering voice, my mind drifting to Boromir. I can't even look at him anyway more so I turn to stare at the darkness.

"What other sorts of things have you faced?" I want to laugh as I think back to the days after we left the safety of Lórien.

"As I said, I have faced _many _things."

"And you have survived. I have no doubt that you will survive this night as well." That's a comfort. I only wish I could be so confident as I was earlier. Maybe I will survive this battle, but will Haldir? My dream…

_Rain pours down on Elves and Men as they battle an army of Uruks and Orcs. Haldir kills a great many of them that tried to surround him. He looks around, hearing his name being called. Aragorn comes into view, telling him to order the retreat. Haldir opens his mouth the speak, but is silent as he feels excruciating pain in his back. He looks down and sees an enemy sword potruding through his chest. The pain leaves as he falls to his knees, his eyes trailing over all of his fallen comrades. He hears Aragorn, sounding garbled and distant, then more pain as his body shakes forward. The pain passes, cold settles in and he falls back into the arms of Aragorn as he closes his eyes..._

"As will you, Haldir. As will you," I tell him confidently, looking back at him with a smile. "Come, we should join the others at our posts. The battle will begin soon." I take one last look at the plains and I can see the army approach in an endless line, looking like a snake. As we walk on, I am grabbed by my arm by a man. I turn to see Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli with rather somber expressions on their faces. "What is wrong?"

"We think it would be best if you stayed with the women," Aragorn states, and its like all of the air has been punched from my lungs. "It would be safer for you."

"Now?" I gasp, looking at Haldir, who is also confused. "After all of the preparations we've made together, you want me to hide?" I question incredulously, staring at each of them in turn.

"Not hide, lass, protect the women with Lady Èowyn ," Gimli offers kindly. Valar, he really has changed! "In case our forces do not manage to hold of the enemy, we want someone we know for sure who can hold her own to protect the women if we cannot."

"That is a stupid plan, and you all know it," I argue angrily. "Even if you and the other men do not last the night, and the enemy somehow manages to break in here, how would you like me to fend them off, alone?"

"Told you that wouldn't work," Gimli mutters and walks away, making me stare at my other two friends pointedly.

"The truth," I demand, my regal nature coming back to me. "Now." I watch as Legolas and Aragorn share a look, and the latter sighs quietly.

"The King does not want you fighting," he states, and I stare at him, aghast. "He says it is not the place of a woman to fight in this battle."

"He is right," Legolas states, forcing my glare unto himself. "You have fought much in these lands, but your only real battle experience has been with the Fellowship. You deserve a good rest."

"I thought we went over this. How is sitting in the darkness of a cave with whimpering women and children, listening to the marching of Saruman's army through the walls, the shouts and screams of men suppose to relax me, comfort me?" I ask, and both look as though they want to apologize, but I don't give them the chance. I mean, how dare they! They might as well say I can't fight as good as them because I am a woman! "Don't! I will go, and I will protect them. But, when this battle is over, if either of you are still alive, watch your backs very carefully. _A Eruchîn, ú-dano i faelas a hyn an uben tanatha le faelas_."

_**A/N: **_Please, no one kill me for making Leûra not allowed to fight. Honestly, it's for the best because, one, the whole battle in her POV was giving me a lot of trouble, and, two, would Théoden honestly let a complete female stranger fight in a battle that he wouldn't let his own niece fight? I don't think so. Don't worry though, the battle is to be written to the best of my ability with Leûra's new surroundings. Hope you like it!

**Translations:**

Ú-moe edamed, Legolas: There is nothing to forgive, Legolas

Sut naa lle?: How are you?

Amin naa quel, hannon lle. Ar lle?: I am well, thank you. And you?

Amin naa quel vithel: I am well also

A Eruchîn, ú-dano i faelas a hyn an uben tanatha le faelas: Show them no mercy, for you shall receive none

P.S.: Four pages total.


	46. The Battle of Hornburg

_**Disclaimer: **_I don't own _The Lord of the Rings _or any of its characters. I only own Leûra, Aearion, Undûme, Cassiopeia, Balanidhren, Aefaradien and any other original characters – so no stealing. However, I don't own Cuiviénen. That place belongs to J. R. R. Tolkien, but the stories of it in Chapter 1 and 2 are all mine.

**Chapter 46: The Battle of Hornburg**

As I lean against the entrance to these caves, I ignore the women and children. What good would it do me to watch them? How can Aragorn send me away? How can Legolas do this to mean, especially after teaching me the bow? What was that for then, what was the point? This ordeal makes no sense at all. I hate sitting here! I should be out there, standing with the men and Elves. I should be with Legolas and Gimli, carefully guarding the wall as Aragorn and Théoden call out the orders! Being here, with the other women, is wholly unfair. I was raise to fight! I knew how to fight with my knives before I could speak properly! I should be out there, with them.

I can hear Saruman's army slowly approach; their shouting and rumbling echo dreadfully in my ears. I can hear lightning crack like a whip, and the low rumble of thunder comes, then the rain. I knew it was going to rain. I could just feel it. That may give us an advantage, since the Uruks and Orcs are not the most well balanced of creatures. The wet ground could throw them off a bit, but that'll probably be all that we have to our advantage. Even with the Elves of Imladris and Lothlórien, our numbers are low in comparison to Saruman…and he knows it, too. He knows it, and he knows he could wipe us all out with a wave of a hand, but he wants to play first. A true murderer at heart, how sweet.

The troops of are walking towards the Wall now, I can tell. They're probably carrying torches to light their way, or burn whatever gets in their way, and long spears, swords, axes, clubs, and any other barbaric weapon they can make. I can just picture Aragorn pacing the wall back and forth; waiting for the perfect moment to strike. I can almost feel his, and all of the other mortal men's, apprehension. It's almost amusing; I almost wish I could laugh, but I don't want to frighten these mortals surrounding me more than they already are.

"They've stopped," I announce to the women. "The army; they've stopped walking."

"How can you tell?" a woman asked fearfully. I smile at her, and then pull back my hair so she can see my ears. I turn away from her and listen once again.

It's a huge army, massive. I'm worried my friends don't stand a chance, but I can't lose hope now. No, not tonight. Not when we're so close. All we have to do is hold out for Gandalf and Èomer, and things will be fine. When did I become such an optimist? It's odd, really. I never would have seen myself in this situation, hoping for the best.

Pounding. They've started pounding on…I don't know. It sounds like their spears on the earth. Well, whatever they're pounding, they're roaring once again. Even through these thick walls, I can hear the archers readying their bows. I suppose this anger the enemy because they're roaring again. Charging. They're charging the fortress!

"Here they come," I whisper to myself. I look up for a moment to see Èowyn looking down at me, fearful and just as mad as I am that she has to be down here.

As the army below runs forward, I can hear my brothers preparing to shoot their arrows. Their armor is weak at the neck and under the arms. I hope Legolas remembers to tell them that, and, if he does, I hope their aim is true. I can hear the distinct sound of many bows releasing, a twang. The Uruks a guaranteed to be showered with arrows! More arrows are being fired: a volley. Many Uruks a sure to fall dead; that is what my friends guarantee. It would not shock me if the Uruks fire arrows back. Just the thought of my brethren dying, even men and Gimli, falling from the wall is too much to bear.

Fighting. Heavy fighting. Oh, Valar…

"Oh, Valar," I whisper, voicing my own thoughts.

"What?" Èowyn asks, kneeling next to me. "What has happened?" I place my lips close to her ears so no one else is sure to hear.

"The fighting has started," I tell her. "The enemy has, somehow, made it past the wall."

"How?" she gasps in distraught. "How could they do that?" I sit a moment and think, then it hits me.

"Ladders."

P.S.: Two pages total.


	47. The Breach of the Deeping Wall

_**Disclaimer: **_I don't own _The Lord of the Rings _or any of its characters. I only own Leûra, Aearion, Undûme, Cassiopeia, Balanidhren, Aefaradien and any other original characters – so no stealing. However, I don't own Cuiviénen. That place belongs to J. R. R. Tolkien, but the stories of it in Chapter 1 and 2 are all mine.

**Chapter 47: The Breach of the Deeping Wall**

The fighting continues as I pace back and forth now. I should be out there, fighting side by side, with my friends. But, instead, I am here with the helpless women, waiting. Why? All because a man, an idiotic man, King Théoden, seems to think that, despite my many years of experience, cannot fight with men. As much as I respect that man for doing everything he can for his people, for facing this army head on, I do not like him any more. Valar, I can almost picture Gimli hacking away with his axe.

"Northway!" I hear a man shout. I cannot tell if it was Aragorn or Théoden, but something is happening.

The Uruks must be approaching the gate if it needs to be defended. Yes, there it is. More arrows are being fired, and more oafing Uruk bodies are falling dead. Wait, there is something else. Something new. What is that? The Uruk's steps are heavier than usual, like they were when they carried Pippin, Merry, and I. Are they carrying something? If so, what? What could they possibly be carrying into battle that would weigh them down so much? Where are they headed? The left!

"Èowyn!" I call, and she rushes over to me. "Quickly, what is on the far left side of the Wall?"

"Um, a drain," she replied in confusion, probably wondering why I even care. "A drain which filters the water we use here. Why?"

"Because the enemy is taking something there."

"Taking what?"

"I don't know, but they've left it now," I tell her, my ears focusing on the footsteps of the retreating Uruks. "One is running back inside."

"Just one," she asks, still confused. "Why? What could they possibly want at the drain?"

"It's running towards whatever the ones before it dropped," I say, not even acknowledging her question. The walls suddenly shake and I clasp my ears, screaming in pain while the humans scream and cower in fear.

"What?" Èowyn asks in a panic. "What's wrong? Are you all right? What happened?"

"A part of the Wall exploded," I gasp, my head still in pain. "I was listening to the outside too hard. It hurt me." I look around at the women, who are clutching their children and crying. "Èowyn, this is your charge. You are to remain here," I order as we walk to the door we locked on the inside. "I am going to go and fight."

"What?" she gasps, holding my hand back as I go to open it. "You cannot leave me here! You cannot leave us here, alone!"

"You will be fine," I assure her, frightfully calm. I'm even scaring myself! "Guard them," I order, and open the door. I slam it behind me, and hear it lock once more.

As I run towards the outside, I can still hear boulders tumbling to the ground. Saruman's army has started to crowd through the hole they've made in the Wall, I just know it. I can feel it! I can hear a loud pounding resonate through the air as I run into the night. Théoden orders for the gates to be braced; the bastards are trying to break through! I am standing at the doors, over looking the battle, and no enemy is near me. I can see men run to the gate, trying to hold it shut and together as the Uruks pound from the other side.

"Hold them," Théoden shouts. "Stand fast!" I watch as men throw rocks and spears down on the orcs below. That will do nothing! Where is Aragorn? If he has fallen…no! It is Aragorn! He cannot fall! I will not allow it! Find him, Leûra! Find him! Use your eyes!

…

Where are you, _mellon_? Where are you!

…

…

…

There!

What is doing outside of the Wall, on the ground? What has happened to him? He looks so unsteady. Damn! An Uruk is running towards him! Oh, Valar, get up!

"Aragorn!" I scream, raising by bow and taking aim. I go to fire, but I see Gimli suddenly jump down from the Wall, landing in the pool of water in front of Aragorn. Valar bless that Dwarf! He's hacked away at Aragorn's enemy! Oh, damn him, he's hacking at all of them now! Does that Dwarf not know when to stop? Now, where are Legolas and Haldir?

"Gimli! Prepare to charge!" I hear Aragorn shout, but Gimli continues fighting. He is suddenly hit and falls back into the pool. "_Hado i philinn!_" he shouts to the army of Elves behind him. "_Herio!_" A volley of arrows suddenly fly over Aragorn's head, attacking the coming Uruks. I watch as he brandishes his sword, and leads an attack with the Elves.

"Legolas! Haldir!" I call out, running down the steps carefully. I'm killing every monster that approaches me. "Legolas! Haldir!"

I scan the area quickly and see one of the Elves I desired to find: Legolas. What is he doing with that shield? Oh, my! I crack a smile and laugh as I watch him ride the shield down the stairs, shooting arrows at Uruks the whole way. That crazy bastard! Brilliant, but the Uruks are continuing to flow in from the hole in the Wall. At least there is a small army to met and stop them there. At least Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli are there. Now, if only these stupid monsters blocking my way would stop coming at me, maybe I could get there and help them! Damn you, Saruman!

"Aragorn, pull back to the gate!" Théoden shouts. No! Not when I'm so close to the others! A few of the men are pulling back now, but I can't stop – not until I find Haldir, and the others are safe!

"_Am Marad!_" Aragorn orders to the Elves with him. "_Nan barad, Haldir!_" he shouts up to the Wall. Haldir! Yes, I see him! "_Nan barad!_" I can see Haldir nod to him, calling for the other Elves to go to the Keep. Now, if I could just get to him.

"What are you doing? Stop it!" I hear Gimli shout angrily. I look in his direction to see Legolas and Aragorn dragging him away. That silly Dwarf! He still wants to fight! Crazy bastards, that's what all of my friends are! Crazy bastards…and I love each and every one of them.

I can see Haldir calling for his men, and I can see the Uruk behind him, sword raise to kill him. No. This is my dream. No. No. NO! I raise the bow Legolas gave me, _my _bow, and notch an arrow. The men and Elves around me are taking care of any enemy that comes within reach of me. I don't know if it's because I am fighting with them or because I am a woman, but I do not care. Remember what Legolas said!

Don't choke it. Be patient. Caress, don't grope. Find a balance. Eyes on the target. Remember the balance. Let it fly.

"Let it fly," I whisper, and release the arrow.

It flies and flies true, straight through the Uruks head. I watch as it falls to the ground, and laugh as I run towards Haldir. He has turned to see the body fall, and looks up to see me, bow in hand and a smile on my face. He returns the smile with a nod, grasps my hand, and we run towards the Keep, killing whatever we can along the way.

"Leûra!" Aragorn is looking at me with a mixture of confusion, pain, happiness, relief, and, I think, even amazement on his face. "What are you doing here? You are suppose to be with the women!"

"I told you I would hear everything that would happen through the walls," I reply, slightly out of breath from the run. Valar, my blood is pumping so fast! I can feel my adrenaline rushing through me! "I heard the explosion. I had no choice but to come. Besides," I say, looking at the shocked face of Gimli as he approaches me, "I couldn't let you men have all the fun."

"That's the way, lassie," Gimli laughs gruffly, patting my back.

"Where is Legolas?" I ask frantically, looking around for him.

"I am sure he is fine," Haldir assures me, a comforting hand on my shoulder. Oh, I hope he is right.

"Brace the gate," Gamling orders, but the gate is almost broken; bracing it will do them no good. All they can do now is wait.

"To the gate! Draw your swords!" Théoden ordered. The King, with his men, are trying to defend the breaking gate. I hate to say it, but it is no use. Gamling voices my thoughts, thankfully, telling his king that we cannot hold much longer as Aragorn rushes to the gate. What is in his head, now? "Hold them!"

"How long do you need?" Aragorn asks frantically.

"As long as you can give me!"

"Gimli!" Aragorn calls. I watch as the two exchange a few words, then run off together. They start away from the rest of us, sneaking around to the other side of the gate.

"Now just what are those two doing?" Haldir asks in curiosity.

"Let's go find out," I state, smiling up at the March Warden mischievously. He smiles back and he run to the top of the Wall and watch as Aragorn and Gimli look at the Uruks pounding on the gate. All of a sudden, Aragorn throws Gimli onto the Uruks on the bridge, and then jumps after him! "What are they doing?"

"They are pushing them back. Look," he says and I watch. He's right; Aragorn and Gimli are battling the troops at the gate.

"Brilliant," I mutter, smiling.

"Shore up the door!" Théoden shouts as Haldir and I see Saruman's army put up more ladders. So I _was_ right about the ladders!

"Rejoin the king," I tell him, overseeing the battle below. "I'll stay here and keep an eye on Aragorn and Gimli. Never know when they might need a few arrows." Haldir looks at me skeptically. "Trust me, _mellon_! Go! Go!" He nods and, surprisingly, does as I tell him and returns to the king while I prepare my bow.

Looking around though, I see Legolas. At last, trace of him! He's still at the Wall, fighting hard. I watch, almost entranced, as he shoots the chain for one of the ladders, making it fall and crush some Uruks below. I can't help but smile; it serves the stupid brutes right for thinking they could outsmart him! Ha! I have to forget Legolas for the moment though; the men are still trying to seal the gates as Aragorn and Gimli continue to fight on the other side. I'm killing as many Uruks for them as I can, but it's not enough.

"Gimli! Aragorn! Get out of there!" Théoden orders. That's it. We have no choice left. We have to run.

"Leûra!" Haldir calls up to me. "You must go!"

"No!" I call back, shaking my head. "Not until Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli are inside!"

"This is folly! I know they are your friends, they are mine as well, but you could be killed if you stay here a moment longer!"

"Then I'll be killed!" I argue, watching as Legolas stands up on the Wall. "GO!" He nods and leaves me, upset and hesitant. I'm glad he listened to me, but I'm even gladder that he didn't want to leave me. I'm lucky to have such a friend.

"Aragorn!" Legolas calls, throwing down a rope to him. I continue to fire arrows on the Uruks that try to harm my friends. Aragorn, holding Gimli with him, jumps on to the rope, and Legolas pulls them both up! Valar, he's strong! Good to know, otherwise Aragorn and Gimli would be dead.

"Pull everybody back!" Théoden orders as more ladders rise up. "Pull them back!"

"Fall back! Fall back!" Gamling orders just behind the king. I hate to say it, but it's about time!

"They have broken through," Théoden says regretfully. "The castle is breached! Retreat!"

"Fall back! Retreat! Retreat!" Gamling orders and I finally take leave of my post, running down to join the men. As I run, I pass Théoden with a smile. I think he almost fainted at the sight of me!

**Translations:**

Hado i philinn!: Hurl the arrows!

Herio!: Charge!

Am Marad!: To the Keep!

Nan barad, Haldir! Nan barad!: Pull back, Haldir! Pull back!

P.S.: Five pages total.


	48. Forð Eorlingas

_**Disclaimer: **_I don't own _The Lord of the Rings _or any of its characters. I only own Leûra, Aearion, Undûme, Cassiopeia, Balanidhren, Aefaradien and any other original characters – so no stealing. However, I don't own Cuiviénen. That place belongs to J. R. R. Tolkien, but the stories of it in Chapter 1 and 2 are all mine.

**Chapter 48: Forð Eorlingas**

"The fortress is taken. It is over," Théoden states inside the Fort. The Uruks are trying to break through the inner doors now. Valar, it can't end like this. Not like this!

"You said this fortress would never fall while your men defend it. They _still_ defend it! They have _died_ defending it!" Aragorn shouts at him, just as shocked as I am that Théoden would think to give up now. A loud bang at the door echoes; I cringe, picturing the women and children I left in the caves, cowering in fear. "Is there no other way for the women and children to get out of the caves?" It is to this question that Théoden and his men remain silent. "Is there no other way?"

"There _is_ one passage," Gamling offers. "It leads into the mountains. But they will not get far. The Uruk-hai are too many."

"Send word for the women and children to make for the mountain pass," Aragorn orders, grabbing Gamling by his shoulder. "And barricade the entrance!"

"So much death," Théoden mutters to himself. "What can Men do against such reckless hate?" I stand with Haldir, Gimli, and Legolas, who nods to me with the same mixed expression Aragorn had given me. We stand together and listen as the Uruk-hai keep trying to break the door.

"Ride out with me," Aragorn says suddenly, turning to Théoden, who looked at his face in utter confusion. "Ride out and meet them."

"For death and glory?"

"For Rohan. For your people."

"The sun is rising," Gimli says, and we I look to the window. I see Aragorn do the same, and we both see the sun rise. Gandalf had told us to look for his coming at first light on the fifth day; to look to the East, at dawn. That time is now.

"Yes," Théoden says with renewed confidence. "Yes! The Horn of Helm Hammerhand shall sound in the deep, one last time!"

"Yes!" Gimli cheers enthusiastically, climbing up to blow the horn as our horses are brought to us, an extra for Haldir since he walked here.

"Let this be the hour when we draw swords together," Théoden says to Aragorn confidantly. "Fell deeds awake. Now for wrath. Now for ruin. And the red dawn!" We hear Gimli blow the horn, and the doors suddenly give in. "Forð Eorlingas!" he shouts and rides out with Aragorn, Legolas, Haldir, myself, and many other men by his side. We fight as Gimli blows the horn again. We fight down to the causeway into the Uruk army. I look up as Aragorn stops beside me. He's staring at something and look to the hill to see what has him so entranced. Gandalf! Gandalf on the back of Shadowfax!

"Gandalf," he gasps wondrously, making Théoden turn to look up in hope. As I smile at the sight of Gandalf, the sight of him never so good to be seen, I see Èomer ride up alongside him, drawing his sword.

"Èomer!" I gasp, grinning madly. "He found him!"

"Èomer!" Théoden shouts happily, grinning just as widely as I am. The rest of us return to the fight as Gandalf, Èomer, and the Rohirrim charge downhill to Uruk-hai. The Uruk-hai point their spears at them, but are blinded when the sun rises completely. It is a beautiful sight.

P.S.: Two pages total.


	49. A New Dawn

_**Disclaimer: **_I don't own _The Lord of the Rings _or any of its characters. I only own Leûra, Aearion, Undûme, Cassiopeia, Balanidhren, Aefaradien and any other original characters – so no stealing. However, I don't own Cuiviénen. That place belongs to J. R. R. Tolkien, but the stories of it in Chapter 1 and 2 are all mine.

**Chapter 49: A New Dawn**

The Uruks had retreated from Helm's Deep, into a line of trees. The men have not stopped shouting in victory. They should not have to either. They did the impossible, after all. I stand on the Wall, watching as Èowyn and the other women are finally let outside. They run around in search of their husbands, fathers, and sons, embracing them as soon as they are found. Seeing them act in such a way makes me long for Aearion. I wish he could have been here to see this! He saw the alliance of Men and Elves thousands of years ago; he would have been proud to see that alliance reformed this past night.

"Stay out of the forest!" Èomer orders his men, and I smile as I look down to see him. "Keep away from the trees!"

I stay in place and watch a moment as the Uruks run into the forest, which groans and sways. A horrible series of sounds emerge, almost making me pity the fouls creatures. Almost. I leave the Wall and journey through the people until I walk up behind Èomer, gently touching his shoulder. I think I must have startled him, for he turned around with his sword raised. I backed away from him, laughing. Èomer lowered his sword with a smile, walking towards me and taking me up in a warm embrace.

"Welcome home," I whisper into his ear. As soon as we separate, I can see the question in his eyes. "My promise stands true. Go to her," I tell him with a smile, pointing to where Èowyn stands with Aragorn, hugging him as well. While Èomer runs off to his sister, I walk over to Legolas and Gimli. The Rohirrim are clearing Uruk bodies, by Èomer's orders, and Gimli is just sitting on one, smoking his pipe.

"Final count: forty-two," Legolas states proudly, gently stroking his bow.

""Forty-_two_"?" Gimli questions, aghast. "That's not bad for a pointy-eared Elvish princeling. I myself am sitting pretty on fourty-_three_." I watch a frown form on Legolas' face, which fades quickly as he shoots the Uruk Gimli is sitting on.

"Fourty-three," he corrects with a triumphant smirk, making me smile at him.

"He was already dead!" Gimli argued, making me cover my mouth to stifle my laughter.

"He was twitching," he replied simply.

"He was twitching because he's got my axe embedded in his nervous system!" Gimli shouts back, and, to prove his point, wiggled the axe handle, making the Uruk twitch. I can't hold back any longer; I burst into laughter as I stop in front of the two, making them look at me curiously. It's then I realize that they've never heard me laugh before.

"You two! How did I ever befriend such men?" I ask, smiling at them, which they return.

"Luck?" I smile widely at the sound of Haldir's voice. I turn around and hug him tightly, and I'm even happier that he returns the gesture. Looking over, I see Legolas frown, eyes quickly moving to the ground, and Gimli chuckles at him, noticing it as well. "I owe you my life, _mellon nin_," he says as we step away from one another.

"No, you owe your life to Legolas," I tell him, walking over to the Prince of Mirkwood. I look between the two Elves, who both look from one another to me in confusion. "He taught me how to use the bow," I explain. "Had it not been for Legolas, you may be dead." Haldir and Legolas smile at one another and I walk over to Legolas, hugging him as well and even tighter than Haldir. He seemed shocked at first, but returned it. "I'm going to rest now. It's been a…_long _night. Wake me when we set out again," I tell him, and nods. Before I even know what I'm doing, I reach up and kiss Legolas' cheek. "You were right. Thank you."

I walk past Haldir, patting his shoulder and telling him to keep Legolas and Gimli out of trouble for me. As I leave, and I'm almost certain I was out of their sight, I hear the distinct sound of Gimli's gruff laughter ringing throughout the air. I can't help but laugh as I walk inside, going back to my given quarters. I wanted to see Gandalf before I fell asleep, finally giving my body the rest it deserves after so long, but he's been in council with the king since the battle ended. What they speak of I can only guess. Oh, this bed is so comfortable!

"_He doesn't look too happy, does he?" Merry asks proudly, smiling at Pippin as they stand in waist-deep water, looking up to the balcony of Orthnac where Saruman stands._

"_Not too happy at all, Merry," Pippin agrees, just as pleased as his best friend, watching Saruman and Gríma stalk along the balcony._

"_Still, I suppose the view would be quite nice from up there."_

"_Oh, yes! A quality establishment! I hear the staff are very good." Unbeknownst to him, behind Pippin, Merry is surreptitiously trying to measure his height against him. As if sensing something was off, Pippin looks behind him, and Merry quickly pretends to be picking something out of his hair. "What are you doing?"_

"_Nothing. The world's back to normal, that's all."_

"_No, it isn't. I'm starving!" he argues._

"_Good luck trying to find something decent around here," he grumbles, looking around hopelessly "Probably only dead rats and moldy bread." Pippin nods, more or less agreeing with Merry. _

_Looking at the water surrounding them, compliments of their friends the Ents, he suddenly sees an apple floating in the water. Seeing this confused the poor Hobbit! He looks and grins at the sight of more apples floating towards them. A few apples hit Merry as they float by, making him notice them as well. They both begin to grab a few, but Pippin drops them in order to pick up a roasted chicken, then a whole basket of apples that float by. Walking towards where the food was coming from, Merry found a carafe of wine, and the two Hobbits enter a room stocked with food of all kinds._

"_Saruman's storeroom!" Merry gasps, and the two look around. As they do so, spy a few barrels marked 'South Farthing'. "It can't be."_

"_It is!" Pippin argues excitedly, and they rush towards the barrels, opening one._

"_Longbottom Leaf. The finest pipe-weed in South Farthing!"_

"_It's perfect! One barrel each. Wait. Do you think we should share it with Treebeard?"_

""_Share it"? No. No. Dead plant and all that. Don't think he'd understand; could be a distant relative."_

"_I get it. Don't be hasty."_

"_Exactly," he said, both smiling wickedly at one another. It was moments later that Treebeard peeked into the storeroom upon seeing smoke beginning to billow out._

"Leûra. Leûra!" I open my eyes and see Legolas sitting on my bed next to me.

"What's wrong?" I ask, sitting up in a hurry. "What's happened? Have more Uruks returned?"

"No," he replies, smiling at me. "We set out for Isengard. Come." Legolas grabs myhand, helping me out of bed like a true gentleman and we walk to the stables together, my arm folded in his. I see Gandalf first, gently stroking Shadowfax, and I walk into my stall holding Rhandir, right next to the Wizard.

"So, Gandalf, just how long _did _it take you to convince Èomer to come to Helm's Deep?" I ask, smirking over my shoulder at Èomer, who smiles back.

"I simply followed your advice, and he and his men were completely ready to come with me," he replies, making me laugh. "He was quite put out when he discovered Gríma was, in fact, no longer in the midst of these lands."

"Yes," Èomer says behind me. "But wouldn't you be too if the man who banished you without cause was suddenly roaming free?"

"Don't worry, _mellon_," I tell him, mounting Rhandir as all of us ride out of Hornburg. "You may have your revenge soon enough."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, let's just say that, I have it on good authority that we may see our old friend Gríma soon." Èomer seems confused, so I just smile at him and he shakes his head in amusement. It's rather amusing to watch the looks on people's faces when I tell them things like that, things that I've seen.

"Sauron's wrath will be terrible; his retribution swift," Gandalf tells us as we look towards the inferno that is Mordor. In truth, this is the first time I've seen it outside of a painting. Oddly enough, it looks almost beautiful from far away, with its volcanic mountain glowing at us. "The Battle for Helm's Deep is over. The Battle for Middle-Earth is about to begin. All our hopes now lie with two little Hobbits, somewhere in the wilderness." Frodo and Sam, I hope they're all right. May the Valar bless and keep them safe wherever they wander.

P.S.: Four pages total.


	50. Final Note

Thanks for all the responses, guys! I wasn't expecting anything at all but, to the few of you who spoke up, thanks so much. It meant a lot!

So, if you haven't guessed it, I'll be rewriting _Sleeping Refuge_. I'm unsure if I'll keep the Dragon Knight storyline, I might keep it to the rewrite of the triology but keep it out of The Hobbit. I might even change her homeland to one of the Elven cities. Like I said, it's going to be a complete overhaul! It might remain Legolas/OC but I might switch it over to Bard/OC, maybe both. Again, I'm really uncertain at this point, I'm still debating on a lot of different factors.

Anyway, thanks for all the love and support in this story! See y'all in the rewrite!

~Enigma


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